Wanderlust
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: Winry becomes a war hostage as the war between Amestris and Drachma heats up. Used as bait to lure out the supposed 'dead' Full Metal Alchemist, she has no choice but to obey – even if the very soldier in charge of her captivity is none other than Edward
1. Complications

**Wanderlust  
**_**by. **Poisoned Scarlet_

**Summary_: _**Winry Rockbell becomes a war hostage as the war between Amestris and Drachma reaches its climax. Used as bait to lure out the supposed 'dead' Full Metal Alchemist, she has no choice but to obey their commands – even if the very soldier in charge of her captivity is none other than Edward Elric.  
**Rating: **T+, for heavy language, graphic nature, mild sexual implications, etc.  
**Genre: **Romance/Action.  
**Pairing(s): **Ed/Winry. Roy/Riza; assorted others.  
**Author's Note: **I will briefly state that this is definitely set a few years ahead, two years to be accurate. Everything has settled down: Alphonse has his body back, Ed still has his automail leg. However, they have not gone to the east and west respectively. They stayed in Resembool but moved to Central eventually along with Winry. Once you read the story, it'll all make sense.

**Edward can still use alchemy!**

I wrote this story before the manga even ended, so his alchemy is essential if I want this to end the way I had planned it to.

Now then, I'll shut up and let you read and see if you deem this fiction alert-slash-review-able :D

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**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any other media involved in this work of fiction. This is for my own entertainment!

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**Chapter 1: **Complications

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"I know it's short-notice but I seriously didn't know until now, okay?"

"Ed, what're you talking about?"

"It's not that I _want _to..." Edward told her, holding his breath when her face abruptly went blank at his words. "I know that I said that once we came back from all that Promised Day crap we'd settle down and go on with our lives but..._well_... Mustang ordered me back and he really needs us."

"Let me guess: you're leaving again," she stated flatly, chaining down the surge of anger she felt. She held her palm over her stomach, swallowing the fury that threatened to rise in her throat.

It was suddenly painful and it made her angry, this realization of hers. The sudden epiphany she was victim to as she looked into his intense gold eyes, which were downcast and troubled.

She always knew he wasn't really cut out for the domestic lifestyle...

"I promise I'll come back as soon as it's over," he stated firmly, stepping forward to envelop her in a tight hug. Winry gripped the back of his black jacket and dug her fingers into the material as her eyes stung with bittersweet tears.

"Yeah, I know you will, Ed," she whispered in reply, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent she would be kept from for the next year or so. Ed usually exaggerated when he said he would be back in half the time. Half a year roughly meant a year... or two, in his language. "You always keep your promises."

It was a weak statement but it was true.

Edward Elric always kept his promises.

"Just wait a little bit longer," he breathed into her hair, squeezing her tightly against his body. "Please. I have to do this – it's something I need to do whether Mustang asked me to or not."

_Not need, want, _she thought scornfully before she could stop herself. Winry felt the tears start to fall but she nodded into the crook of his neck. "It's alright. I understand... just... come back to me alive, okay?"

"Promise," he sighed out, sounding much happier now. Winry felt him start to pull away and, though she wanted desperately to keep him close to her, to keep breathing his unique scent, she reluctantly released him as well, giving him the most sincere smile she could muster as he thumbed her tears away with a warm smile.

The news had been so sudden Winry was sure she still hadn't digested the information well. She should have been in a fit of uncontrollable anger, raging and steaming, smacking him repeatedly atop the head with her wrench and cursing him into the deepest inferno she could imagine. She should have called him an idiot repeatedly and gotten into a spat with him, ending with both of them angry and frustrated.

But she didn't.

She swallowed down the anger.

She stomped down the hurt.

Instead, she gave him one last long kiss, one wry smile, watched him pack his bags and hurry out their bedroom to store them in the state-vehicle parked outside their small apartment complex.

"Be careful you two! And take care of your automail, Ed, or else you'll get it when you come back!" she shouted, crossing her arms protectively around her as she saw them wave back and watched the car disappear into the mid-evening traffic of Central.

Alphonse had been the one to _really_ break it to her; Edward had only continued on from there.

Alphonse had given her a great big hug once they had exited from the bedroom she and Ed had only shared for less than half a year. Al had been the one to explained to her what Ed had failed to. But Winry didn't necessarily hold it against him – after all, these were military-executed assignments and therefore to be kept strictly confidential.

Actually, she'd be lying if she said she didn't hold it against him. _She did hold it against him. _Because even though she wasn't married to Ed, he could at least _explain _to her what he was going to run out on her for!

While Ed had gone upstairs to retrieve some things he'd forgotten, Alphonse had rushed the details to her.

They were heading to Xing, where Ling Yao was still apparently battling for his shot at the thrown but had offered them lodging for the time being. They were to go to Xing to master their style of alchemy called Alkahestry. Once they had mastered the style, they were to head to Fort Briggs, a place Winry was much too familiar with, and prepare battle plans for the upcoming war Drachma was going to start.

Apparently, Amestris and Drachma had reached their limits; it was only a matter of time before one of the two attacked and Amestris was firm on not being the aggressor in the situation. They had made a contract, after all. It was a contract the Fuhrer was positive would hold out until the end, despite the animosity brewing the two countries, though Brigadier General Roy Mustang was quite sure that if they did not create some sort of plan, Amestris and it's civilians were going to suffer a horrifying wake up call.

A flimsy piece of paper was not going to keep thousands of Drachmian soldiers from invading Amestris during the next couple of years.

That was where Ed and Al fit into the Brigadier's systematic plan.

They were the most experienced alchemists out there; the best of the best. With their skills and quick thinking, the fact that they did not need materials like chalk to preform a transmutation, they were the best choice for the assignment. They were the soldiers that were to infiltrate Drachma headquarters and ferret out as much information as possible, as fast as possible, and leave the instant they had acquired enough and let the real soldiers handle the rest.

They were going to pose as Xingese men banished from their country for one offense or another and try to join the Drachma militia as soon as possible because they had a grudge against Amestris. It would be enough of an excuse, Al assured, though Winry was still a little skeptical about that...

Of course, everyone would recognize them with their gold eyes and hair trademark, so that was a small set back recently promoted Major Riza Hawkeye quickly solved. They were going to dye their hair a different color before they left. Alphonse was going to style his hair like Mustang during his younger days. Edward had to chop his hair off completely and probably grow a beard if push came to shove.

"He won't be happy," Winry had commented in amusement, shaking her head when she heard her boyfriend drop something upstairs and curse loudly afterward. "Ed has always been fond of long hair, you know. And he hates beards – it reminds him of, you know..." _Hohenheim_, she added mentally.

"Yes, but he has to," Al had sighed, cringing when his brother continued his string of obscenities. "So I guess he has no choice but _to _cut it all off. And grow a beard," he laughed brightly.

Winry crossed her arms protectively around her stomach: "I'm going to miss it."

"Miss what?"

She had tightened her grip around her stomach. Her eyes tentatively rose up the stairs, to the man who appeared at the top juggling two suitcases and glaring childish daggers at the worn suitcase in his right flesh hand.

"His hair. I always loved his hair."

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She didn't think it would be this hard.

Sometimes she had the thought that maybe she should've told Edward or at least Alphonse before they left.

But she knew it'd only cause complications and she didn't want to be burden because of one night of passion. She also had faith they would come back to her alive but a little beat up – like always.

The sudden rise in her appetite had been alright. Her hormones had acted up a lot and she found that her patience had been reduced to a hairs breadth. She was moody, snapping at people and delving into depressions before she could blink but she had handled those quite well if she had any say.

Her second month had been normal; third she began to get sick and by the middle of it she was throwing up everything and longing to be held by Ed.

By her fourth month, she had gotten used to the morning sickness. It bummed her out that her usual favourite plates made her nauseous but she figured that if she was breathing life into the child of Edward Elric, it was worth the sacrifice.

By her sixth month, she was already starting to show. This was bad, since she had wanted to keep the pregnancy private. It was a blessing that she had moved back to her grandmother's house in Resembool shortly after Ed's departure and that she had never been one to go out much, anyways.

It was also a blessing that she had started showing in the sixth month and not the months prior. But it was like someone had blown air into her: she went from thin to huge before she could screw in a bolt.

Pinako had found out much earlier than that, however, when she had literally fainted from exertion one busy day in the clinic during her fourth month. Her grandmother had _not_ been happy but she had come to accept her... _condition, _they had codenamed none-too-subtly.

Pinako did cheekily comment that if she had _not_ gotten pregnant then she would have to go smack Ed around and yell at his stupidity.

She'd obviously anticipated this ever since Winry had announced she and Ed were moving to Central – _together._

It during the end of her eighth month, however, that disaster struck.

Winry had worn an old shirt of Ed's that day, meaning it covered most of her stomach and made her seem thinner than she actually looked. It was good thing – she couldn't stand to see the disapproving look in her neighbors eyes every time they caught sight of her bulging stomach. So what if she had gotten pregnant at twenty? It was Ed's child so it meant nothing to her what other people thought. She was actually very excited for the coming of her first child.

She had been diligently working on a pair of automail hands when the knock had been struck.

"Miss Winry Rockbell?" the two soldiers had stoically asked, looking at her with a chilling glance that made her uncomfortable.

"Yes, that's me. How may I help you?" She opened the door some more, allowing them to step inside. She quickly excused herself to make some tea and brought back two steaming cups as the two men settled on the sofa.

The first soldier took a sip before continuing: "We are here on official orders of Brigadier General Mustang to alert you of some grim news our intelligence has recently acquired."

"Grim news...?" she repeated worriedly, not liking where this was going already.

"Edward Elric and Alphonse Elric were proclaimed Missing In Action roughly two weeks ago," the second soldier took over. "We received information just this morning stating that perhaps... they might not have survived the explosion."

_Explosion? _The word that echoed through her mind. _Explosion? They were in an explosion?_

Her heart stopped as the words sunk in. She felt chill sweep through her body, clutch her heart and tighten like a vice. The word refused to quiet in the plains of her mind; thousands of gruesome scenarios _exploding _in her head with the frightening word. Her hands gripped her stomach, which was hurting so much now, as the two military elites stood, alarmed by the sudden pale her skin had taken.

"Miss Rockbell? Ma'am, are you—!"

"Explosion?" Winry repeated, anxiety pitching her voice. "What explosion? What do you mean? What the hell are you talking about! Where's Ed? Where is he?"

The first soldier pipped up again. "We were informed that Major Elric was involved in a brawl some twenty miles from where he was designated to stay. He was ordered to stay within Drachma premises but it seems he did not heed his orders..."

"So he was caught in a heist situation and there was an explosion," the second solider continued. "The details are blurry, but that is all we need to know that something went wrong. His brother may have followed Major Elric during all this since we have not received any letters regarding him since and sources say he has not been spotted within the Military HQ of Drachma, where they had been ordered to stay."

"No," Winry whispered, holding her stomach. It was then that she soldiers took notice of her swelled abdomen and widened their eyes. "It can't be – no! Are you telling me that Ed and Al... Ed and Al might be...?"

"Deceased, ma'am." The first soldier completed, somewhat shakily, still staring at her stomach.

It wasn't suppose to end like this, they weren't suppose to _die_!

Winry had never thought of the concept of death when it regarded the Elric brothers. Sadly enough, she tried to never think that they might just never come back one day. She ignored these thoughts, letting them fester within her, and only gripped onto the small flower of hope within her.

But now...

"_Waiting is scary," she told her grandmother one long day years ago. She had been sixteen then, still learning automail engineering with her grandmother and some other mechanics that traveled the globe. She was still an amateur although she did pride herself in creating the best automail limbs Resembool, and perhaps even Dublith, had ever seen along with Pinako._

_Her grandmother closed her eyes and silently agreed._

"_They might... never come back," she told her, tucking in her knees to her chest. "They might never come back like mom and dad did..."_

"_Don't say that, Winry. Never give up hope. Those boys know better than anyone not to die while you're waiting here for them. I bet they're just fine."_

"_You really think so?"_

"_Yes, I do."_

"_Okay, then."_

It had started as minor aches in her stomach, as the soldiers pulled out some paper work indicating that Major Edward Elric had written her name down in his will if anything were to happen to him. They were explaining things to her: their mouths were moving but no words registered in her mind.

They couldn't.

She wouldn't let them.

This was all too final, too sudden.

She did not want to believe it, as she fearfully watched the men ask for her to sign so she could get a monthly pension to help her with the child she was carrying. They held out a pen to her and to her, the pen symbolized defeat; it indicated giving into the grief that was slowly beginning to consume her.

"I'm not married to him," she whispered tremulously.

"It's alright – he specifically asked for all of his funds to go to you," the first soldier asserted, waving the pen in front of her. "All we need is for you to sign your name right here as proof that you have received this information."

_No... they're not dead._

"No."

"Pardon?"

"They're not dead," she hissed with conviction and the moment seemed to be the turning point for the worse. That was when the pains intensified and prolonged. That was when her chest hurt so badly and her eyes stung so fiercely she had trouble focusing on the two soldiers sitting across from her.

"Ow!" Winry flinched, clutching her stomach. It was hurting so much now. It felt so heavy and the stabbing pains were not making it any better. Her back ached and her legs felt like jelly beneath her as she stood and tried to pace around the room, kneading a palm into her abdomen to stop the violent muscle spasms. "Ow—oh no..." She felt something warm, sickly warm, trail down her leg and she dropped to her knee's since she could not longer support her weight with all the stabs that attacked her lower body.

Tears brimmed her heavy eyes. "My water broke! My water broke! Oh, no, I—OW!"

"Ma'am!"

"Miss Rockbell!"

"Are you sure?" The first soldier asked, dropping to one knee as she clutched her stomach.

"Well, either I pissed myself," Winry grimaced, "or my water broke. And I haven't urinated on myself since I was six years old!"

"Shit," the second soldier cursed, wringing his hands. They looked at each other, in terror almost, and asked in unison: "Should we take her to Central?"

"No!" Winry yelled, wincing when another paralyzing spasm hit her stomach. "Not Central. Anywhere but Central!" She gasped, pointing at the phone. "I need... my grandmother... she's the doctor who's going to deliver my baby! Hurry! HURRY DAMN IT!" she shrieked when they simply stared blankly.

The two men carefully carried her to the phone, where Winry weakly dialed in a number and waited for her grandmother to pick up. The pains grew worse and sweat began to build at the base of her neck. The room felt sweltering and the sharp stabs were starting to tell her that true agony was soon to begin.

She wished Ed was there to help her and the weight in her heart worsened.

"Grandma, it's time!"

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Brigadier General Roy Mustang had been in his new office when they had barged in unannounced.

Major Riza Hawkeye had been on the other side of the room, furiously scribbling something that was probably boring and dull. Piles of paperwork, one over the other, sat on his desk, as the Brigadier fixed his hands under his chin and watched his partner complete some of his own work.

It was a shame, to let a woman complete his work, but Roy didn't mind. She usually just grabbed stacks of his paperwork and occupied herself with it. He didn't mind one bit – the less paperwork, the better, he said. And it seemed that the higher the rank, the more paperwork he received.

Roy leaned back in his chair and flicked a crumpled ball of paper off his desk, watching it hit the floor and bounce away.

This day was beginning to seem like another boring—

"Brigadier General,sir!" a soldier shouted breathlessly, slamming the door open and saluting hastily. Soon another soldier came barreling in, slamming into the first soldier and sending them both spiraling to the ground in a heap of limbs.

Roy quickly stood, recognizing the familiar look of chilling panic on his soldiers faces'.

Something had happened.

"What's wrong? Speak, solider!"

"It's miss Winry Rockbell," the first soldier wheezed, dusting himself as he stood at attention.

"What about miss Rockbell?" Riza had long since abandoned her paperwork to see what all the ruckus was about. "Private?"

"It's miss Rockbell! She's—!"

"In labor!" the two privates yelled in unison.

There was a thick silence that followed.

Roy was speechless, staring at his two subordinates. "Pardon?"

"Miss Winry Rockbell—!"

"Is—!"

"PREGNANT!" They both finished together again, panting. The first private took out the paper that was to be signed by her and returned it to Roy, pointing at the dotted line. "We could not get it signed, sir, because she had gone into labor when we... broke the news... to her?" His voice had become unsure at the sudden fury in Riza's eyes.

"Yet you revealed information that could have gotten her this agitated!" Riza set her lips in a thin line. "You were suppose to refrain from blurting out this information if you were _positive_ she was in this condition!"

"But, sir, I mean, ma'am—!"

"Out of my sight," Roy commanded with a weary sigh, rubbing his temples as he felt a headache begin.

Things had gone from dull to interesting faster than he would have liked.

"Yes, sir!" they saluted and quickly exited, looking even paler than before as the door shut behind them.

"Roy," Riza began, dropping all formalities. "You know what this means, right?"

Roy was silent, staring at the spot where the two soldiers stood prior. He closed his eyes and took a deep, meaningful breath. "Yes, I do. How troublesome – and here I thought the shrimp was too much of a wussy to pull this off."

"I didn't think she was... with child," Riza said slowly, a little guiltily.

"But you had an idea, right?" Roy rose an amused brow at her. "Riza, were you holding out on me?"

"Sir," she started, looking as expressionless as usual. But Roy could see the anxiousness in her eyes. Riza could never hide her emotions from him, not when her eyes were as expressive as a child's. "I only assumed, sir. Edward has been in a relationship with her for nearly half a year. It was only an assumption... I honestly didn't anticipate this becoming a hazard to our plan," she told him frankly and sincerely.

Roy fell back in his chair and laced his fingers together in thought. "Well, we can't tell her now I guess. It'd cause too many complications to do so."

Riza looked surprised. "But—!"

"We can't," Roy closed his eyes. "The plan was to let her stay in grief for a few days, just enough to dissuade any Drachmian spies that should be lurking around the area before we relocated her quietly. If we were to inform her that Ed and Alphonse are not dead... it's too risky. We cannot afford it – Ed still has three more stages to execute before I could let him show his face again!"

"Yes, but, her child..." Riza looked torn. "She is going to have a baby, sir! _Edward's_ child!"

"I know," he agreed, voice going dark. "Which makes it imperative to relocate her as soon as possible. Drachma is still clueless as to Ed and Alphonse's double-spy status. All they know is that they were caught in an explosion and their bodies have not been found. But they won't be in the dark for long. Our plan was to inform Winry of their MIA status, have her grief-stricken for a couple of days to make it look real, then reveal to her our true information and relocate her before the spies lingering in Resembool had enough time to execute her. As we both know, Drachmian spies have assignments to take out anyone who has come in contact with Full Metal... mainly Winry Rockbell." Roy stood up, looking out from his window.

Riza nodded. Alphonse had sent forth information just shy of twenty eight hours ago informing them of this grim news. The brothers snooped around pretty well and had found these missions ready to be delivered within hours notice.

Needless to say, Roy spent no time at all sending forth faulty information to Winry, as she was not very vital to their plan regardless of her title as Full Metal's girlfriend, and everyone else who wasn't involved in their conspiracy, about the brother's deaths-by-explosion.

Of course, this was a lie.

The 'explosion', truthfully, was a simple brawl between Ed and a random Drachmian soldier. But no one else knew that. Drachma thought that Ed and Alphonse died in an explosion _they_ themselves had ignited when they caught news of the 'brothers' current location; it being near their territory. But, in reality, the brothers were nice and safe, cozy and warm, inside their facilities.

And the brothers in the explosion were fakes, doubles, and died on impact.

They were actually war-captured Drachmian spies, something Roy darkly thought would only infuriate them further when they found out, and make them act on this anger, which would be the start of the third stage of their plan.

As it should be.

But now, Winry was pregnant and in labor. News traveled fast and Roy had no doubt it would not be long before Drachma was informed of this and they'd want to capture her for the sole reason of taking her son.

The Full Metal Alchemists only child.

If Edward and Alphonse had been borne of a man proclaimed to be a Philosopher's Stone himself and had developed faster than normal children should, then a child from the one and only Full Metal Alchemist, who had crossed to forbidden lands more times than he could count, would be a child with special... abilities.

Or so Roy followed. He was pretty darn sure the kid would be normal in every way, shape, and form but he could not be certain. Edward had been through many feats and if his father had been a Philosopher's Stone, that made Edward and Alphonse a bit more special than most children, meaning that Ed's kid was probably special, too.

In a nutshell: Roy had about an hour to think of something good.

He played with the thought of just relocating her without telling her a thing as they had planned. It would work – all he had to do was make up some half-truthful monologue and have her kicked out of Resembool and into another place; one where she would be safe and sound for the time being...

"She was not vital to our plan. That was our first mistake – we should have paid more attention to her," Riza voiced her superiors thoughts, eyes downcast in concern. "Now we'll have to tweak our strategies."

"Drachma isn't stupid," Roy stated after a while. "They know Ed and Al are still alive, somewhere. If they were really dead, we'd have panicked more than this," he smiled grimly. "I suppose this plan partially backfired on me..."

"What should we do now, sir?"

"What I don't get is how we weren't notified of this earlier," Roy murmured, ignoring his comrades question. "Being pregnant is almost impossible to hide..."

"Do you think she knew?" Riza asked, quietly.

"No," Roy said finally after a few moments of deliberation. "I think she simply wanted this to be kept secret. For what reasons, I am not sure, but surely not because she knew of what was happening. If she knew, she wouldn't have reacted the way she did."

Riza conceded silently.

"First things first," Roy sighed out, grabbing his black coat and draping it over his shoulders. He beckoned Riza to follow him. "We cannot let anyone else know about this. Especially Full Metal."

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"Brother?"

Silence.

"Brother?"

A snore.

"Brother!"

"Hah?" Ed yawned as he rolled over on his side, scratching his exposed belly a few times before focusing his eyes on his younger brother, Al, who was sitting up in his bunk with a small lamp lit right next to him. He looked worried. "What is it, Al?"

"Do you think Winry's alright?"

This again. Edward was sure that when Alphonse had barged into their room, ash-faced and wide-eyed, something terrible had happened. And something terrible _had_, when Al had managed to rush the details to him and take him to the room where he had discovered the data. It seemed that Winry was a target for many Drachmian undercover spies: the reason being they wanted to lure Full Metal, aka him, out of hiding.

And Edward was pretty damn sure he would have revealed himself within a second of hearing this news if his brother hadn't discovered it beforehand.

Of course, they had sent forth a demand to have Winry relocated and Edward was sure that, even though the Brigadier General was a bastard, he wouldn't expose Winry in danger if he could help it.

He wholly trusted him on that, no matter how morally bankrupt he was.

"Of course, Al," Ed reassured. "Roy wouldn't just leave Winry out in the open like that – Hell, I bet she's already in East City! Or even Rush Valley, by now." _She better be,_ Ed thought venomously. If she wasn't, there would be some hell to pay with the Brigadier General. And Ed had learned several new combat moves that would have the older man on his knee's and begging for forgiveness...

Al looked a little less worried now. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I bet she's heading to Rush Valley as we speak! She'd definitely love to live there – it's automail heaven, right, brother?"

"Right, so go to sleep, Al." Edward laid back down, facing the ceiling. "She's alright. Granny Pinako and Winry are alright so there's no need to worry about them. We have to focus on the next stage of the plan right now."

Alphonse looked rather apprehensive about this stage. He picked at his blanket for a moment. "R-right..."

"What was that?" Ed taunted, turning his head to the right and grinning a wicked grin. "Is that hesitation I hear, little brother? What, you scared?"

"No!" his brother shouted defensively.

"Right," Ed snickered, smugly. "You're _scared_! Scardy cat!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"_Yes, _you _are,_" Ed emphasized, grinning from ear to ear. "Ha! You're scared! I thought I'd never see the day when you'd be scared about a stupid little mission!"

"It's _not_ stupid!" Alphonse shouted back fiercely. "You could really get hurt out there! You heard Brigadier General Mustang's warning '_there is a twenty percent chance you might not make it'_! He was looking at you when he said it!" his voice dropped towards the end, eyes growing heavy with worry.

Ed's smile disappeared once he caught sight of his brother's somber expression. "Hey, Al?"

"Yes?"

"I made a promise to Winry that I would come back," he revealed, intense golden eyes boring into the concrete ceiling above them once more. "And I'm not going to break it anytime soon. I _will _come back. We both will. Together. No matter what."

Alphonse nodded as he snuggled deeper into his blankets, bringing them up to his chin. It felt good to be able to feel the warmth of the fabric, the scratch of it. Yes, Winry would be okay. She would be safe and sound and waiting for them with wide open arms.

If his brother was sure of it, then there had to be _some_ truth in it. He felt his eyes grow heavy and he stifled a yawn. A few minutes later he was asleep, the concern for his childhood friend pushed to the back of his mind for time being.

Edward stared resolutely at the water-stained, peeling, ceiling; his fingers gripping his flesh right arm underneath the blanket subconsciously. Alphonse had brought up the alchemists intense concern for the girl, which he had managed to ignore enough to sleep through the entire night.

Now it was back and pressing – urging him to take more action than just sending a stupid letter to Roy.

He needed to be _there, _with her, protecting her; not some second-rate soldier who would probably panic if a true emergency happened and abandon her without a second thought...

Ed growled to himself, glaring holes into the ceiling. So many devastating scenarios flashed through his head, so many dangerous situations, and so many ways to just... _capture _and _hurt _her_..._

"I _will _come back to you, Winry," he vowed, jaw set.

Edward didn't sleep well that night.


	2. Hysteria

**Wanderlust**  
_**by**. Poisoned_ _Scarlet_.

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**Chapter 2: **Hysteria

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It was painful.

It was hard.

It was something she would have never imagined; a feat so exhausting she felt her muscles sore and her lower area sorer. Everything ached and fatigue consumed her for better part of the week after the delivery.

She was not happy, either, despite having given birth to possibly the most adorable, angelic, baby in all Amestris – at least in her eyes.

The first cry of her child – _her son –_ had given her the first smile since her false alarm. Though her water had broken, Winry had given birth four days after and had stayed in bed for most of it, groaning when the contractions became too much or gazing out the open window and feeling her heart ache at the words the soldiers had come to personally tell her.

The words that refused to leave her mind.

"_... Missing In Action..." _

"_... not have survived the explosion..."_

Ed and Al.

They were either really missing or... really...

A pang tore through her and she shuddered in a breath, clutching the metal bars encasing her to the hospital bed. She didn't want to dirty her own bed with whatever goo she would push out when the baby arrived so she decided to take residence in the family clinic, in the room where Ed had gotten his ports fitted.

It was ironic, really.

She was laying on the bed where Edward had first made his resolve, took that first step into the muddled river of life, and here she was taking her own first steps to motherhood.

Single motherhood.

Because even though she was confident Edward was _not _dead, was _not _by any means gone from this world, not yet, she could still feel the darkness beckon her with it's clawed hand; run it's length down her throat and coo her into the submissive numbness of depression. Convince her that he was truly dead and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She was useless and it was entirely her _fault – _because she could have stopped him, told him about the baby, and he would have stayed and he would have _lived. _

_He can't be dead. He promised and he always keeps his promises, _she told herself sharply, sucking up the bile in her throat. She rubbed her eyes out, getting rid of a few tears in the process.

"Winry," Pinako smiled, bringing in a small bundle of blue as she closed the door behind her. "I think he wants to see you again."

She smiled warmly as she accepted the child, gazing into it's curious bright golden eyes and feeling something inside her just break. His hair, a mixture of she and Ed's, was an almost dark blond, drawing closer to chestnut if you squinted. He had Ed's eyes and his boundless energy. But he also had her nose and apparently her mouth, so Pinako said.

He was beautiful and he was hers – _theirs._

_He's not dead... he's not._

"Hey there Eddie," she cooed, eliciting a giggle from the baby in her arms. "Who's my little angel? You are! That's right, my lil alchemist!" Eddie gurgled something close to a laugh, high pitched and new, which made the new mother beam brightly.

She had been stumped when it came to a name. She never really talked it over with Ed – he being oblivious to the fact he even had a _son –_ so she had decided to go with Edward in the end. Not that original but she had always liked the name. Not Edwin, or Edmund or anything other derivative of Edward. Just Edward. Or Eddie, as she had grown accustomed to calling him out of fondness.

She had been torn between Edward or Royce, her grandfathers first name, but in the end she went with Edward and decided to add the latter as Eddie's middle name.

Edward Royce Rockbell.

She thought it had a nice ring to it.

"Grandma?" Winry asked softly, cupping her child's cheeks and smiling when he lifted his small, chubby, arm to clumsily grab her fingers. She wiggled it and he laughed some more, trying to grasp her finger with both hands now. He ended up sticking it inside his mouth, making Winry giggle as she took it out and stuck in his pacifier instead.

"Yes, Winry?"

"I wish Al was here," she laughed, a little balefully. Eddie kept trying to grab her finger. "I bet he'd love to take care of Eddie... he'd make a good babysitter, don't you think? He's always liked kids."

"What about the shrimp?" Her granny drew a breath from her pipe. "Edward is as a graceful as a cow – he wouldn't be able to hold Eddie without dropping him first!" she chuckled, imagining the poor boy juggle the baby in his hands. He'd probably be so nervous he'd end up hurting himself or worse – he'd probably just avoid holding his kid in general.

"I think he would make a great father," was Winry's quiet response.

Pinako sighed, taking another deep breath from her tobacco pipe. "There will be a long and hard journey ahead of you, you know this, right, Winry?" She was looking at Eddie as she said this.

"Yeah, I know." She continued to play with his little hand, silently noting every little detail about him. Eddie had captured her finger yet again and spit his pacifier out, gnawing on her finger instead. "I can do it, granny. I know I can." She stuck the pacifier back in his mouth and smiled when he only spit it out again, determined to use her finger as a pacifier.

He had Ed's stubbornness as well, it seemed.

"That military man, Mustang, was here a couple of hours ago," Pinako revealed, blowing out rings of smoke. Winry wrinkled her nose, covering her baby's nose with his blanket. Eddie whined and tried to push the blankets out of his face.

"What for?" She felt that same treacherous seed of hope revive within her. Maybe he brought good news on Ed and Al?

"Not sure," she replied, standing up to go the window, where she continued to smoke her pipe. "He looked pretty desperate to see you. But you were having some mean contractions so I couldn't allow him inside."

Winry blanched. Contractions. Labor. How she loathed those words now. Contractions meant pain. Labor meant trying to squeeze out something obviously bigger than what was _suppose _to be squeezed out. And without anyone there to hold her hand since her grandmother had been the one _to _deliver her child, Winry was left to literally crush the metal bars holding her captive within the bed.

That was her support: a pair of metal bars and a white sheet. She remembered how angry she had been, cursing Edward to the deepest pits of hell and back for the pain and for going out there and dying on her, but she also remembered how joyous and relieved she had been when Eddie had seen light.

It was the best and worst day in her life.

Pinako suddenly looked up.

"Granny?"

"Stay here, Winry," she responded, taking her time as she walked out the door. Winry was left in pleasant silence, the sounds of her baby the only thing keeping the room alive.

Before long, Pinako came back, looking grimmer than usual, with Roy and Riza in her wake.

"Oh, hello miss Riza...Brigadier Mustang," she smiled,tense. The two Amestrian soldiers nodded in greeting and quietly waited for Pinako to grab Eddie's bottle and go refill it for the next feeding session.

"I will be right back," she said, looking straight at Winry as she said the next words: "Don't agree to anything you're not comfortable with."

Winry just bowed her head in response.

The door closed and they were left in silence.

"What's his name?" Riza was the first to speak, her voice calm and nurturing. She walked over to her side, leaning over to catch a glimpse at the little boy in her arm.

Winry smiled, relieved that they weren't cutting to the chase just yet. "Edward. Edward Royce Rockbell." Winry vaguely saw Roy's brows shoot up at the second name. Riza's hand paused a bit but she reached out to touch the boys cheeks softly anyways. Winry saw the usually severe woman's face soften to something nearly motherly, as Eddie grabbed her finger and tried sticking it in his mouth, too. Winry gently admonished the boy and laughed when he gurgled something close to disgruntlement out.

"Edward Royce," Riza repeated, thoughtfully, laughing softly when Eddie grabbed her fingers again. "It suits him."

Winry beamed back.

"Winry, I believe you know why we are here," Roy said, interrupting the casual conversation between the two women. Now that they had gotten over standard protocol, it was time to get to the point of the visit.

"Are Ed and Al alright?" Winry asked, voice quivering.

Roy glanced at Riza, who had her brows scrunched together. She grimly stared at the child, so innocent and full of life, reaching out to her with his chubby healthy hands and giggling when he managed to touch her standard blue military coat. Riza leaned away and sent her superior a pained look of resignation.

They had to do this, no matter how hard it may be for Winry and her baby...

"I... am sorry to say, Winry, that Ed and Al have been..." He crafted his voice to become heavy, somber. It did not take much effort. "proclaimed deceased. We have already found the bodies... or what's left of them."

If Winry could describe what she had felt in that very moment, it would be anguish. The pain of loss – the awful emotion of losing a dear one – assaulted her before she had a chance to prepare for the sudden attack.

It was like losing her parents all over again – only more painful, worse, if the cries of anguish she heard herself voice were anything. Her eyes were already brimmed with tears. A heavy weight strapped itself around her chest like a wound up rubber band, constricting her lungs and forcing out what little air was left.

It couldn't be... they were really dead...

Winry vaguely heard Riza call for her but she was too busy spiraling down a dark tunnel to notice.

.

..

.

..

.

"Oi! Shrimp! Get 'er ass over here! Pronto!"

Ed felt his anger spike. He gripped the broom with both hands, splintering the wood in half with his bare hand. There went another damn broom. "Who you calling short, you great lummox!" Ed bit back. It wasn't as if he were _that _tall, either; they were both about evenly matched although Edward was considerably slimmer than the other man, making him appear scrawny.

"Shuddup and get over here!"

Ed grumbled and threw the broom the ground, slouching over to his 'comrade'. He couldn't wait to be finished with his mission... then he'd show that amateur who's boss.

_And I'll start by breaking his face in half, _he thought evilly, silently cackling as he imagined it. He couldn't wait already. "What d'ya want?" Ed asked rudely, stopping before him and crossing his arms.

"The chief wants to see you," he said, sounding mildly annoyed by this fact. Edward only beamed, letting his smile stretch wide to show that he was oh-so _joyous _about this. In reality, he could care less. He actually wanted to be in his bunk, however uncomfortable it might be, asleep. He had fallen asleep somewhere around three in the morning. He had been having a good dream and he nearly strangled the soldier who had pounded on their door to wake them up for their training, which took place at the brink of dawn; just an hour after he fell asleep.

Ed was not a morning person and would never be a morning person for as long as he lived.

"Sho, take over my shift, would you?" Ed winked at Al, who looked away in embarrassment at his older brothers antics. Ed scowled in response and walked out of the second building they had been sweeping earlier. For some reason, even though they had gotten officially promoted to Sergeants, the most action they got was a rogue dog here and there.

And Ed got bored of watching his little brother squeal and try to pet it after the fifth time.

So, when this happened or when he was just so bored he couldn't stand it, he would excuse himself to the restroom, having already gotten the reputation of having a weak bladder. During this time, he would spend it snooping. He would eavesdrop on superiors, some soldiers who couldn't keep their mouths shut, and perhaps even steal some grub from the kitchens if he got the chance.

As Ed strolled down the hall, whistling a random tune, his ears caught something that very nearly made him trip over his own dissimilar feet.

"Did'ja hear about it yet?"

"Hear what?"

"Shh, you moron! I heard from General Yao this morning. You know that Winry girl? Ya' know, Full Metal's whore?"

Ed felt another spike of fury, another urge to crush someone's windpipe. He resisted the urge – experience having taught him not to barrel into things without first listening.

_Then _he could barrel into things.

"Yeah, the pretty blonde, right? What about her?"

"Well, you'll never believe what mess she got herself into this time!"

Ed inched over to the wall and, once there, edged closer to the corner and listened hard. What mess had she gotten herself into _this_ time? There had been other times? Ed thought, scandalized. What had she, in fact, been _doing _during his absence?

Nothing good, from what he could hear...

"You know how that Full Metal kid and his brother died during the explosion, right?"

_Interesting, _Ed thought, narrowing his eyes a little. So, Mustang had executed his death without error, as expected. _We died? _He poked his arm and smirked in response. _I don't feel dead. _

"Yeah? Come on! Get onto it, damn it! I have to finish this report before the boss gets back or he'll slit my throat open!"

"Alright, alright! Sheesh! Anyways, everyone's sayin' she got knocked up."

Ed, in all seriousness, felt his heart skip a beat and felt the nasty clutches of jealously and betrayal spear through him. His fist clenched, teeth grinding together as he resisted the bone-crushing pressure he felt in his heart.

_What _had_ she been doing during my absence?_ Ed thought darkly, digging his fingers into the wall. With a heavy heart, he continued listening.

"What? No way!"

"Hell yes! Full Metal got the girl knock up and apparently she gave birth a couple o' days ago. I think it's a boy but I couldn't be sure – the boss was gonna' catch me listening in on him if I didn't move!"

"Holy shit, poor girl," the soldier tsked in what seemed to be glee and not sympathy. "Single mother, huh? Well, that's what she gets for opening her legs."

"You're telling me!" They both laughed. "And the father's dead, too! Che, serves 'em right!"

"That's it," Ed snapped aloud, shoving his sleeves up and stomping around the corner. He would teach them to talk smack about his girl...

"Oi, what are you doing? Get back to your post, soldier!" the second soldier said suddenly, catching sight of a black patch of hair careening towards them.

Next thing both of them knew, they were hurting all over. The first soldier had been thoroughly knocked out, bleeding with a broken nose and a left eye that was swelling and would be black by tomorrow morning. The second soldier, delirious but still conscious, blubbered something Ed did not bother to even hear as he smashed his fist into his face, steaming with rage at the audacity the two men possessed.

The pent up rage was released and Ed felt greater than great once he was finished pounding the life out of both of them.

"Assholes," he grumbled under his breath, dusting his hands off and stomping away from the two bodies. But this new information had him on his toes. Winry was _pregnant_? No. Not was, _had _been. She had already given birth and, according to those two numskulls, it was _his _child she had given birth to.

Edward felt his head spin and he slowed down. His child...?

"Wait, rewind, Winry and I haven't..." Ed thought back to that musty summer day and how she had been in that too-tight tube-top and too-short shorts. How her flat stomach had him itching to run his tongue— "Uh oh," he whispered, wide eyed.

She had been pregnant_?_

He was a _father_?

A dead_ father_?

_I majorly fucked up, _Ed realized with a sense of calmness, stopping in the middle of the hall; staring ahead with huge eyes and his jaw slack. It had been his plan to fake his own death and Brigadier General Mustang had only affirmed it after he had offered the idea. If they could successfully convince Drachma that enemy number one was cleared then it would be easier to take them down once they made it to the last stage of their plan.

But if Winry thought he was dead, that meant that she had probably shed a lot of tears – something he mentally beat himself up for. Why was he always making her cry? - and if she had been _pregnant _when this news had been shown to her, then...

"You gotta' be kidding me," Ed breathed out, clutching his head against the sudden wave of dizziness and _responsibility._

If she thought he was dead then that meant that she probably thought she would have to raise a son all by herself. And with good reason, too, since it would be another three to four years before he would be able to show his face again. Plus, it was not just any son, either, it was _his _son. But that was the least of his problems, he deduced, because if she had a son, specifically his son, then that meant that he was a _father _and that many of his old enemies would rise once more to take revenge on, not him because he was technically dead, but his son_._

His _son_.

_I'm going to be a father? _Ed paled, the information slowly sinking into his muddled brain. And once it did, he felt the full strength of it knock him down an inch or two. If he was short before, he was a midget now. _No. I am a father! _He swore an unhealthy number of obscenities in his head as he combed his fingers through his short, black, hair in anxiety.

He was so royally screwed.

Winry was in danger.

His newly-discovered son was in danger.

Amestris was in danger.

He and his _brother _were in danger.

When was he ever going to get a break, damn it?

These were his thoughts as he sprinted back to the second building, a blizzard raging outside the concrete walls of the Drachma's Military structure.

He needed to tell Al.

.

..

.

..

The next time she awoke, it was dark. There was no child in her arms and she had a white, moist, rag strewn over her forehead. She removed the towel, touching her cheeks with her finger tips and grimacing when she saw that she had broke into a fever somewhere between the morning and now.

The mattress creaked and groaned with her weight as she tried to swing her legs over the side of it. She scowled when the metal bars surrounding her denied her this, and it took her a long while to push the bars down so she could properly slide off the bed.

She slowly walked to the door, seeing a dim stream of light blind her for a moment before words registered in her addled mind. She leaned into the door, listening as her grandmother conversed with another person.

To her surprise, it was Gracia Hughes.

"Elysia is at her grandmothers house right now," Gracia explained. There was a scrape of a chair and Winry assumed she had taken a seat.

"I see, so she will not be staying here as well?"

"Oh, no!" Gracia laughed. "Elysia would only cause trouble while I'm here! Though she would jump at the chance of handling little Eddie here, I simply could not let her come... ah, you were informed why, right?"

"We are in your debt that you even risked yourself for this," her grandmother replied honestly. Winry felt her brow twitch. Since when had her grandmother gotten a sense of honor? She was usually very chill with these sort of affairs and offered no recompense afterward. It was strange that she even _tried _to be tolerable. Or that the words sounded true even in her ears.

Winry fumbled with the door knob for a second before pushing it open. Gracia leaped up and hurried towards her the instant she caught sight of her. Her grandmother only drew in a breath of smoke from her pipe.

"Winry! Thank goodness you're awake!"

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better," she offered a small smile. "Gracia, what brings you here? You usually don't visit us this frequently..." The last time Gracia Hughes had ever visited her grandmother's little yellow house down by the plains had been nearly two years ago, when she, Ed, and Al were still in Resembool and that had only been because Elysia had begged to come and visit her.

Gracia was not fond of traveling far away from her husband.

Winry faintly wondered if this was to become of her as well; if she, too, was going to be reluctant to leave Resembool once they had managed to create a proper burial for the Ed and Al.

Winry felt the familiar weight in her chest sink to her joints. Her legs felt weak all of a sudden and Winry barely managed to hobble to the sofa before she collapsed in it, her fever seemingly increasing with every second. The room sure felt hot enough to boil an egg.

"Winry, I think it would be best to go back to bed," Gracia suggested, gently placing her arms around her. Azure eyes downcast, Winry paid her no heed as she slowly thought of the funeral. Would they allow a normal one or was Mustang going to supply a military one? Winry firmly believed they would give Ed and Al a military-based farewell and she felt even worse.

It was like rubbing salt on wounds – it would remind her that it was partially _her _fault all of this had happened. If maybe she had been a tiny bit more persistent, Ed and Al would have never tried human transmutation and maybe if she cared a bit more, she wouldn't have let Ed go on that mission in the first place; not to a facility where they wanted him _dead. _The glaring mistake had her dazed by the time Gracia managed to stand her up on both feet. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

Winry barely noticed that she was being half-carried back to her room – thoughts of Ed and Al swirling through her mind. But as soon as she did, she stopped and leaned back on her heels and did not budge, despite Gracia's efforts. She removed the older woman's arms and gently pushed her away.

"I'm fine," Winry replied, voice hollow. "C'mon, Gracia. It's not like me to mope around the house... what happens, happens and it's—we have to accept it," she said, her voice cracking. Gracia looked pained and Winry thought that if she looked as bad as Gracia did when Hughes had passed away, then perhaps she did need to go back to sleep...

She was on the brink of convincing herself when her grandmother spoke up.

"Winry." Her grandmother's voice was like steel, unforgiving and hard. "I have a job for you."

She looked up and briefly saw Eddie, cuddled up in a blanket and lying on the couch, snug. The sight brought a small, warm, smile to bloom on her face. It made her look considerably better than before, when she sported dead eyes and an equally expressionless face. "What is it, grandma?"

Her grandmother pointed to the scrap metals thrown messily on the kitchen table. Winry sluggishly walked over to it, picking up a piece. "What about it?"

"I want you to melt them properly for an automail leg we have to construct," she ordered crisply.

Winry groaned. "Grandma, why don't we just use one of the spares—!"

"Because I want to you to snap out of it," Pinako demanded, taking out the pipe from her mouth so she could speak properly. "It's been three days."

"Three... days?" Winry whispered, her eyes wide. It felt like less."I've been asleep for _three_ days?" And she still felt so _tired_...

"Yes, and its been three days too many," she barked back. "You're melting those and you're constructing the leg. You have three days to do it. You look fully recovered from labor anyway"

"Three days? But grand—!"

"No buts," she interrupted, sticking her pipe back inside her mouth. "The measurements are in the workshop so I suggest you get to it." Winry gawked as her relative slowly padded outside, where she ignited the pipe once more and took a long draw.

"Well... I guess you'd better get to work, don't you think?" Gracia said awkwardly. Winry barely glanced at her. Her eyes were concernedly set on Eddie, who was suckling on his thumb as he slept.

"Don't worry, I'll look after him," Gracia answered her silent plea.

"But he's mine," Winry muttered, guiltily. "It would be wrong if I just left him to you!" _and I want to spend time with him, _she added mentally. Spending most of her time sleeping and leaving her child to her grandmother and now Gracia was starting to make her feel like a bad mother.

She should be able to at least spend some time with him, even if she was constructing an automail leg.

"Nonsense!" the older woman laughed. "Eddie has been a darling these last few hours! We'll be fine, Winry! You go on ahead and work on the prosthetic; I'll watch after Eddie for you until you finish."

Winry fingered the cool metal, jagged and rusted, before she smiled. It was a tired smile and she was sure it did not reach her eyes because just stretching her lips felt like a hassle, but she did it anyways.

She might not be able to spend time with Eddie for the next three days but she had the rest of her life to be there for him when he needed it the most.

She supposed that was what counted in the end.

"Okay."

.

..

.

..

Alphonse Elric was still in disbelief. It had been three days since his elder brother had barged into him in the hallway hours after his bathroom departure and rushed the fateful words at breakneck speed. It had taken Al a full ten minutes to calm his brother down enough for him to speak coherently, and when he did what he heard was beautiful and horrifying at the same time.

"_I'm a father!" he hissed, grabbing his collar and bringing him closer to him. There was a uncommon panic in Ed's golden eyes. "Winry—she! Ugh, she didn't tell me that she was pregnant, hell she probably didn't even know, and now she gave birth to my kid!" _

_The first thing he said was: "Brother, that's terrific!"_

_And it had been shot down cruelly. _

"_What are you? Stupid? This is terrible! I'm suppose to be dead, Alphonse, dead! And now Winry has bared my son! This is as bad as it gets, Al," he groaned, fingers weakening against his collar. "What the hell am I suppose to do now? We still have three more stages to complete before we can return home and clear off our deceased status. We still have... at least three to four more years to go..."_

_Al frowned, furrowing his brows in thought. Something didn't quite add up. How could she be pregnant without the military – or at least Riza – knowing about it? It did take an estimate of nine months for a child to fully develop... "You're right," he mumbled in slow agreement before another thought appeared. "Oh, no! Winry thinks you're dead!" _

_Palm met forehead. "Of course, you idiot! Jeez, you're slower than usual today," Ed commented, annoyed. "You're usually on top of things around here."_

"_Brother, what are you going to do?" Al looked around them, seeing that they were relatively alone, before dragging his panic-stricken brother to their sleeping quarters. "If Winry really is pregnant—!"_

"_She is," he insisted. "Well, was. She gave birth already."_

"_As I was saying," Al continued, sending his brother a warning look. "If Winry really was pregnant then don't you think Brigadier Mustang would have told you about it already?"_

_There was silence before Ed spoke: "I.. guess," and even when he did, uncertainty laced his words._

"_Right," Al rationalized. "If Winry really was pregnant and if she really had given birth to your son then don't you think that Brigadier Mustang would have also taken you out from the assignment? I doubt he'd put Winry and her child in danger by having you over here in enemy territory – Mr Mustang isn't that cruel. He did say that if something came up, he'd pull us out immediately."_

"_Yeah, but I thought he said that out of protocol... it's not like he'd really take me out just 'cause I accidentally knocked up Winry," Ed scowled. "He'd at least tell me though, right?" Alphonse nodded. "Then I guess you're right, Al. Roy wouldn't just leave me in the dark over here! After all, I have the right to know if I have a son! Right?" he laughed nervously. The insane casual note in his words had Al thinking that perhaps he was only desperately trying to convince himself otherwise..._

_Alphonse beamed regardless. "Right! See? It's a good thing you came to me first or you would have blown things out of proportion... again."_

"_Haha," Ed smiled, stress-lines clearing across his forehead. He'd _already_ blown them out of proportion. It was Al's job to calm him down enough to think again. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Al." Ed's smile slowly disappeared as they made it to their rooms. They both entered quickly and shut the door behind them, giving the room a quick check before settling down in their bunks. _

_Alphonse saw a shadow flit through his elder siblings eyes before they returned to their normal, bored, shade. _

_He nervously bit his lower lip._

"_Why were the Colonel's speaking about this in the conference room?" Ed asked rhetorically, leaning back on the mattress. Why, indeed? _

"_They could have been discussing rumors," Alphonse offered, taking off his boots. He tossed them aside as his brother got comfortable in his own bed. "I highly doubt Winry would be able to hide her pregnancy for more than three months. And didn't Brigadier Mustang promise to check up on her on a monthly basis?"_

"_Yeah," Ed conceded, scowl marring his face. "But that doesn't mean he has."_

"_Yeah, but—!"_

"_Trust me on this, Al," Ed started, rotating his arm to relieve some kinks in his joints. "If Roy thinks that hiding this information from us would benefit him, he would. He's done it more times than I could count – he's bent on becoming Fuhrer and nothing is going to stop him from achieving that goal." He rose his eyes to his brother coldly: "Not even if one of his closest comrades got injured in the process."_

_Alphonse frowned at his brothers lack-of-trust in their superior. "I don't think so. But this is something serious," he agreed. "If Winry had been carrying your child for all this time... and if she really had given birth to him... she might complicate things more than they already are."_

"_They'd want him," Ed declared abruptly, fringes shadowing his eyes. "If Winry really had given birth to my child, the Generals from Drachma would want him for themselves for the sole reason of having the upper hand on me. They know we're not dead, Al. Hell, anyone with half a brain could see that we're not dead. We wouldn't go that easily – an explosion?" he scoffed, "You've gotta' be kidding me. A damn metal beam couldn't finish me, much less some dumb bomb."_

"_But all this harmless speculation, right? Alphonse asked, shakily. He was starting to see that there really could be a possibility that Winry had been with child. "There's no way that Winry could have gotten pregnant! You two haven't... gotten that far, right? It's only been a couple of weeks since you two decided to start a relationship! We've been living together for almost a year but-but you and Winry... brother?"_

_A sudden blush had crawled onto Ed's face and Alphonse let his jaw drop._

"_Brother!"_

"_What? It's not like you wouldn't have if it had happened to you!" Ed retorted, turning his head to hide his pink cheeks. "Besides, we used protection..."_

"_Are you sure about that, Edward?" Alphonse squinted his eyes at him, crossing his arms in a very motherly-manner. _

"_Yes, I'm sure, Al," Ed stressed out, not comfortable at all as to where the conversation was going. "Hell, I put it on myself."_

_Silence, then:_

"_Oh, __no__!" Alphonse groaned, aghast. "Winry might very well be pregnant! This is bad! This is very_ _bad! Oh, how could this have happened?"_

"_HEY!" Ed snapped viciously. "Are you tryin' to say that I can't put on a god damned condom right?"_

_Alphonse pinched his nose. "Honestly?"_

"_Honestly."_

"_... Yes."_

"_ALPHONSE!"_

"_SHH! Stupid, do you want the others to hear?" he hissed, pointing fervently to the wooden door that served as their only means of privacy. "Stop using my real name!"_

_Edward huffed and ran a hand through his loose locks of hair. He wrinkled his nose when he brought his hand back down; he needed a shower. "Whatever. Anyways, yes, this all harmless speculation. I highly doubt Winry is pregnant anyways – she wouldn't have kept it from me if she was. And she would have gone to General Bastard if she was, regardless."_

"_I think you're right on that," Alphonse smiled, a small furrow of worry between his brows, as he changed into a spare shirt and flopped back on his bed._

That day had been four months ago.

The weight of responsibility and sudden fatherhood was nothing new to him anymore; even though both of them liked to believe Winry wasn't _really _pregnant and he didn't _really _have a son.

"Tomorrow is going to be hard," Al yawned. "You should get to sleep, brother." His bed was couldn't even qualify as a bed. It was hard, board stiff, and smelled suspiciously like a well-oiled motor but it was something. He was just grateful he had shelter for the night.

"Fuckin' bed," Edward grumbled, kicking the wooden frame with the heel of his automail foot as he slouched to the small area reserved for bathing. "Cheap thing for Sergeants – I vaguely recall Amestris offering them better shelters than these dumps."

"Brother, you should be grateful you even have somewhere to sleep!" Al admonished.

"I'd rather sleep with the rats, at least they have a comfortable living space," Ed mumbled, whistling a tune when Al shot him a look. As his brother got comfortable and his breath evened out, Edward let the steaming water flow down his body thickly. He spent most of his shower thinking, about the same thing every single time, staring at the grime that had gathered between the cracks of the tiles that encased him in their miniature bathroom.

What if they really hadn't been lying? If Winry really had been pregnant with his child and she had already given birth? Having a child out of wedlock was the least of his problems. He had no doubt that Drachma kidnapping her and his child would be his primary concern as Ed had gotten the signal that the war was starting and he needed to initiate the other phases as quickly as possible.

And if they managed to get their filthy hands on them, what would he do? Where would that leave him? How would he be able to rescue them if he was suppose to be dead? If he was suppose to be a soldier for the very military that had captured them?

He turned off the tap, the steam beginning to leak out the small window above him. Cold air chilled his skin and he quickly towel dried to avoid freezing to death. The season had switched to winter and the snow was piling heavily outside.

_But Winry isn't pregnant, _Ed thought firmly. _She can't be. She would have told me, she would have—!_The memory hit him like a brick. He wondered how he hadn't thought of it months ago, when he first got the news...

_Winry, a hand over her stomach, smiling in what seemed to be sadness when he had broken the news to her. He remembered how her eyes had gotten so wide, brimmed with unshed tears, and her hands had automatically clutched her stomach, as if it hurt._

_She had clutched her stomach._

_She had more than once tried to say something but ended up backing out at the last minute, despite his questions._

_She never let go of her stomach._

_She _never _let go of her stomach as he hopped into the military vehicle and waved through the back window._

_She never let go._

"DAMN IT!" Ed slammed his flesh hand into the tiles, cracking them from the sheer force of his punch. His knuckles burned with pain but he dismissed it instantaneously. Physical pain was the least of his concerns if Winry had really been carrying his child all those months ago and he had been too dense to notice the oh-too-obvious signs he recognized now.

_Then why didn't Roy inform me of this? _Edward thought, droplets of water trailing down his temple. His eyes widened. _Unless he didn't know either. _

Was Winry sly enough to hide her pregnancy from prying eyes like the military?

_It's not like Mustang actually checked on her, _Ed continued, letting his hand scrape down the wall and fall limply by his side. He was sure he was slowly but surely fitting the pieces together. _And I have heard of cases in which the woman does not show real signs of pregnancy until late in the third trimester. Could Winry have been one of those cases?_

This was all too confusing. He tiredly rubbed his eyes out as he slapped on a shirt and some boxer shorts. He collapsed on his bed, ignoring his soaked hair as he laid on the pillow, and continued to mull on this.

It was going to be another long night.

And through out this whole ordeal, Alphonse had been awake. He had flinched when he heard his brother break the tiles with his bare palm and the frustrated swear almost made him stand up and check to see if he would be alright.

Alphonse remembered how Edward had awoken an hour before Wake Up to fix the tile with alchemy before he managed to see it. He remembered how his eyes had been bruised black from lack of sleep and there was an aura of broodiness that permeated every he stood.

And, three days after that event, as Alphonse stood with his back straight and his face wiped of any emotion, looking past the commander that slowly walked by each and every one of them, analyzing their posture and stance, he was very sure that his brother's claims had been correct and his had been so deathly wrong.

Because as they both stood side by side, fists clenched, faces drawn, they saw their cruel commander grin a wicked grin and take out a clean sheet of paper from behind him.

It had a picture of Winry on it.

He crumpled it up in his hand and let it fall to his feet, where he stepped on it for extra measure. He crushed it thoroughly under his heavy boot and fury bubbled inside the two Elric brothers when he sneered and kicked the paper away as if it carried some disease.

"So, you maggots remember the Elric's?" His commander said, voice crisp and clear. "They're alive. They're out there. And a few of you might get selected to tag along if you behave properly. I've gotten orders to select ten of you for this strictly-confidential assignment you will carry out within the next few years. I've got about three god damn years to train you maggots to resist _everything _and _anything _thrown at you before we crush those Amestrian scumbags!" He eyed them all with a critical eye, waiting for someone to snort or even twitch."And only one of you will be able to go track that whore down, you hear me?"

Alphonse felt Edward go rigid beside him.

"Rockbell and her bastard son are to be apprehended, taken back here, unharmed, if possible," he smiled cruelly. "Though a kick or two might set her straight if she causes any trouble, right, boys?"

Ed had his hands clenched so tightly they became was as white as the snow that fell outside.

"You might be wondering why I'm even giving you fuckers this opportunity. Out of all my sectors, I chose this one," their commander continued, casually. "Well, that might be because some of you actually have the balls to make it to the next level." He stopped right in front of Edward, who was standing as straight as he could and trying desperately to keep his rage under wraps; least his anger got the best of him and he ruined Phase Three. "Are you ready?" his commander sneered, spitting in Ed's face.

Ed only allowed one, brief, smirk of derision.

This seemed to be enough to satisfy his commander, however. He pointed to him and grinned, something that made Ed's hope and dread rise. "And you, my good man, are one of the lucky ones to be selected to hunt down Winry Rockbell and son."

Raise in rank.

Gain commanders trust.

Await further orders.

Phase Three Complete.


	3. Repercussions

**Wanderlust**  
_**by. **Poisoned_ _Scarlet_

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**Chapter 3: **Repercussions

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Five years.

It was nearing five years and not a whisper from them, not from the news and definitely not from Brigadier General Mustang. The military man hardly informed her of anything if she did not persist; and even then, they were half-assed answers that made her blood boil. Most of her questions were for the upcoming war, which was all the talk back then, and he did not disclose any information that she didn't already know.

Somehow, she knew why.

Edward.

She remembered how depressed she had become, how absolutely hollow she felt for most of those years. She could not help it – every time she closed her eyes, she saw a bright explosion of fireworks, bright splatters of blood, and Ed's wide and terrified eyes boring into her own before he shattered into a million pieces. The hole in the chest, gaping and raw, reflected in the sudden weight drop and bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep, was something that encouraged Riza's hints and thus blowing meaning into her once-black and white world.

Riza had said many curious things in her letters – which was their only form of communication as the woman had more pressing things to attend to – and most of these things hinted towards Ed and Al's survival. It was these letters that Winry held so much faith in; hoped so badly to come true she even prayed once in the black of night for their safety.

Not three and a half years ago Riza Hawkeye had barged into her home and ordered her to pack her bags and leave to Rush Valley. Apparently, it had been affirmed: the war had finally begun. That was when Riza had seen Eddie for the second time since their last visit all those years ago, playing with his toys as he sat on the ground and she did her work.

Riza stared at him for a long time. The two year old had nearly walked away from her when he took notice of her presence. Winry managed to grab him before he did.

"He's gotten so big," she swallowed uneasily, then slide an iron curtain between them once more. Riza had recomposed herself in no time at all.

"Yeah, he has," Winry had replied, placing him upon her lap and bouncing him when he showed signs of crying from being lifted off the ground. When she lifted her eyes, she saw guilt and regret reflect in Hawkeye's ruby chocolate eyes and she wondered why for a moment. "Riza, what's wrong? Why are you here and... wait, how did you even get inside!"

Riza did not speak for a moment. "The treaty has been nullified on account of Drachma's rising aggressions regarding a former State Alchemist. You may know him from before: Kimblee. It seems they are now officially declaring war." Winry nodded slowly. "We must leave. It's even more urgent now for you to leave Resembool – it will be the one of the many places attacked when the Drachmian army commences their first stage."

"How would they! They have to get through Briggs—!"

"Airplanes," Riza stated simply. Winry's mouth fell open. "I know you are not ignorant to this new technology, Winry, and I can tell you now: they are real and they will wreck devastation once they are initiated."

"Wait, _no_! I'm not leaving," Winry had argued. "This is my house! It's my _home! _How come I have to leave? I've been here for nearly all my life and I will not run away—!"

"Now is not the time to argue with me, Winry," Riza snapped sharply. "You have a son to look after. If not for you then for him."

Needless to say, Winry felt her lips pull into a permanent scowl when she moved into her new apartment in Rush Valley. Even though automail had progressed in abundance and it was the place she had dreamed of living in, it still did not feel right. Not when she was forced to move in against her own will.

Mustang had strategically chosen this area for he assumed it would be the town last to be attacked by the planes once they were launched.

Her grandmother had been allowed to accompany her, which made the new apartment feel more homey than if she had done it alone.

Another half year passed when she received news from Riza stating that they were going to relocate her to Northern City, close to Fort Briggs in order to keep her in protective custody as they would not suspect her to be so close to the battle fronts. A few days later, she was dropping her suit case in an empty, damp, apartment located in the middle of the frozen city.

Around two and a half years after that had her back in Rush Valley – Military protection services be damned. It was simply too cold in North City, too isolated and desolate. Mustang had agreed only if she had soldiers surrounding her at all times wherever she went while the war sunk into a temporary break.

She had agreed, seeing no hurt in having bodyguards.

However, it was during this time, that it had happened.

_CRASH_

Pinako rose sharply, snapping out of her nap. The aged woman strained her hearing, catching light footsteps come from the living room. Wrapping the blanket tighter against her, she stood up slowly and walked to the bedroom door she, her granddaughter and nephew shared nowadays.

Winry put down her automail magazine. "Grandma?"

"Winry, stay here. It's probably just another silly kid throwing rocks at the windows," she reassured, hobbling to where she assumed the noise had come from. Winry swung her feet over the mattress and quickly stuck them into the slippers set out below. She clutched the sleeping five and a half year old closer to her, carefully heading to the door.

There was the sound of clothes ripping and a sharp cry before it fell silent once more.

"Grandma?" she called, uneasily. She apprehensively peeked her head out of the bedroom. "Grandma, is everything alright? Do you need any help?"

A shuffle.

Winry froze.

She could hear muffled screams...

"G..grandma?" Fear trembled through her words, starting to take over her body as she crept deeper into the darkness of the night. The living room was suddenly so dark and wide. Her hands shakily searched the wall for a light switch but she dared not tread too deep into the impending black. Instead, she retreated and ran back inside her room, where she scrambled for her wrench and tucked it neatly into the pocket of her warm jogging pants.

She laid Eddie down on the bed, shushing him when he groaned and cracked his eyes open. "Go back to sleep, mommy will be right back, okay?"

"Mmhmm..." he mumbled, slipping back into unconsciousness again.

She gave her son one last glance before she whispered: "Grandma, I'm coming" and headed into the room, courageously turning on the lights.

What she saw made the blood drain from her face.

"GRANDMA!" Winry bolted to her grandmothers crumpled body, where a fresh puddle of blood pooled around her shoulder rapidly. Pinako gave a weak imitation of a smirk as Winry lifted her up desperately in her arms.

"Granny...?"

Winry looked to the scared face of Eddie, who stood uncertainly a few feet away; the shout having jerked him awake. She quickly told him to close his eyes.

"No," Winry whispered, taking trembling fingers to comb her grandmother's wiry hair away from her face. "No, you can't. You can't," she swallowed, tremulously. Eddie was starting to shake as he saw his mother begin to cry. "You can't leave me! No! You can't! Grandma, who did this to you? Who? Tell me! Damn it, Pinako!" Winry pressed her to her chest, sobs wracking her body as grief made itself known.

"I can fix you," she whispered, voice pitched in crazed enlightenment. She shakily got to her feet. "I can heal you! Just hold out a little more, grandma! I can stop the bleed—!"

"I'm too old, Winry," her grandmother's shallow voice made her chest ache so terribly. "I... I can't... take injuries like these.. anymore... heh," She gave a pained smile and wiped away the tears that streamed down her granddaughters face with an uncoordinated finger. "Take good care... of that child now, Winry. Raise him to be a good fellow... like his father. Never," her voice grew weaker. She felt her own breath grow shallower and shallower with the realization that perhaps her grandmother really was _not_ going to make it. "Never give up hope..."

"No." She refused to believe it. It couldn't be. Not her grandmother. They were suppose to be safe – Riza promised her nothing would happen to either of them. She couldn't die. She couldn't be alone in the world... "N-No.. Grandma, st-stay w-with me. G-GRANDMA!"

"Such a pity," a passionless voice said from behind, sounding annoyed at the heart-shattering scene. "Are you Winry Rockbell?"

Winry swiveled around, grabbing Eddie, who had walked next to her during her sobbing, and roughly pushed him behind her; a darkness she had never thought she could possess staining her eyes. She narrowed them, pulling her lips back into an ugly snarl.

"You did this." It was not a question rather an accusation.

The man was tall and lean, clad in a uniform unfit for the usual heat of Rush Valley despite it being late autumn. He was wearing furs, indicting he had come from somewhere cold, and standard black, laced, leather boots. There were no strange geometric shapes or symbols anywhere on his person and Winry assumed he was just a regular soldier. Better for her – then she wouldn't have to waste time trying to figure out what his special alchemical ability was. He had a pair of thick goggles situated across his forehead. His hands were gloved, white, and crossed behind him.

There were blood stains on his prim jacket.

More stains began to bleed through the white material of his gloves, where Winry noticed, as he brought them in front of him as if to show her his weapon of choice, a knife was held professionally.

"You... YOU SON OF BITCH!" Winry screeched, hands clawed to shred him to pieces; to smash his skull open until his brains bled out; to tear him apart for ripping the last piece of family she had left away from her, when a whimper froze her in place.

Eddie.

The man watched the child with mildly surprised eyes, which soon darkened with terrible amusement. "Well, isn't this a wonderful surprise?" he grinned, smug. "Who would have ever thought the Full Metal Alchemist to have a son! Wonderful! The information had not been faulty after all." He strode forward until he was in front of her, boots nudging her knee as she struggled to contain the unadulterated rage that coursed through her veins. Her hands, clenched into fists and turning snowy white at the knuckles, were her only form of release.

He reached down and pulled her up harshly by the arm, only laughing when Winry lashed out and scratched him deeply across the cheek.

Blood dripped down.

Her finger ached to tear more than a simple scratch in his skin.

"Mommy!" Eddie cried, stepping forward. His eyes, a fierce shade of polished gold, glowed like embers. "You leave my mommy alone right now!" he shouted, clearly.

Winry suddenly paled, shakily turning her eyes to the man holding her captive.

He licked the blood away and gave the child a sick grin.

"I can't wait to inform my commander about this. The Full Metal Alchemist has been our top priority since we discovered he never died during the explosion. Excellent. We were hoping to just take you as a ransom to bring him out of hiding but now," his black, beady, eyes locked on the child, who scowled in such a way that reminded him of Edward Elric in that wanted poster, "now, things have begun to grow interesting. I wonder how long Edward Elric will be able to resist the allure of his lover... and his child."

"You'll never take him," she spat, breaking out from her frozen state. "I'll kill you before you take him away from me!"

"YEAH!" Eddie yelled, stomping his foot for emphasis.

"Now, now, miss Rockbell," he smirked, grabbing her arm and screwing his fingers in a particularly sensitive spot on her muscle. Winry clenched her jaw to drown the scream of pain as she shoved Eddie farther away from her. "Respect would be gladly appreciated. And whoever said we were simply going to take your child? We are not as cruel as to remove a child from it's mother... not unless you refuse to cooperate, miss Rockbell." His eyes darkened considerably and he tightened his hold on her arm when she tried to move again. "Not unless you wish to end up like your poor grandmother here, who almost managed to call the Amestris military when she saw who it was."

Winry flicked her eyes to the telephone, which hung limply from the receiver.

Her eyes widened a fraction.

She was close to it and she did not hear a dial tone...

_Thank you, granny! _The girl thanked inwardly. Winry spoke loud and clear. "Are you a soldier from Drachma?"

"Yes," he answered, pleased to have the conversation steer in a more pleasant direction. "It seems Briggs has finally loosened up their security—" he stopped and suddenly turned, staring at the telephone.

Winry felt her hope crash and burn when a grin stretched on his face, lighting his eyes dangerously like fire.

"Clever," he murmured, slowly making his way over to the phone. He picked it up, seemed to observe it, before hanging up. He turned to find Winry in the same potion, on her knees and slouched, a rabid spark in her sky blue eyes as she stared at him through her bangs with utmost hate. Eddie stood by the wall feet behind her. His golden eyes locked on the wrench on top of the kitchen table beside him. When the scary army man wasn't looking, Eddie snatched the tool from the table and hid it behind his back, just in time to see him adjust his goggles and step forward slowly.

The predatory steps he took made Winry's skin crawl.

"You're a clever girl," the Drachma warrior drawled, fingering his gloves for a moment. Then he took out the gun in his hip holster and aimed it not at her but Eddie, who's eyes widened at the weapon; remembering Riza, during one of her visits, had shown it to him once when he asked about it excitedly. "But that was a foolish mistake," he hissed and retracted the safety.

"Eddie, don't move!" Winry shouted, scrambling over to her son.

There was a dark chuckle.

A board groaning under weight.

And then an ear-splitting gun shot drowned out by her own blood curdling scream.

She barely dodged the bullet that pierced the floor before another shot made her ears ring deaf for a moment. Eddie was frozen stiff, staring with wide, terrified, eyes as his mother crawled to him desperately. Tears began to brim his eyes, trail down his cheeks as his ears rang with each shot.

"Run, Ed! Run now!"

Eddie shook violently, sobs ripping his throat. "M-M-Mommy...?"

"RUN AWAY, EDWARD!" she screamed, flinching when another bullet narrowly missed her.

She prayed. Prayed to whatever God would listen to her in that instant. She prayed that, if there really was a God, he'd make an exception and spare her child; her son – the only piece of _Ed _she had left. He could not go like this. She wouldn't let him. "ED, _RUN_!"

There was a splash of colors as her vision swam.

Then, darkness.

* * *

She awoke to footsteps and a throbbing head.

There were a lot of footsteps and eventually laughter and voices registered in her mind. Winry's muddled thoughts barely comprehended that she had metal cuffs around her wrists and the air around her was cold, so chillingly cold. She barely remembered what had happened but when she did, her eyes sprung open.

Lights blinded her for an instant and she lolled her head back down, biting her lip against the rush of dizziness that assaulted her. She felt so weak and helpless, as she fingered the cuffs that kept her from moving. Her cheek felt numb and swollen and there was a sharp pain that made itself known near her lower back. The back of her head ached the most as she felt something drip down her neck and slip down her black shirt.

When her eyes adjusted, they locked on her hands: her bloody hands and the splats of crimson that dotted the floor by her feet.

She was steadily losing blood. Perhaps that was why she felt so light-headed.

"Finally awake?"

Winry rose her head and adjusted her sights on the man clad in Drachmian uniform; the man who had put her in this situation in the first place. He had slick backed black hair this time with the same sever features, coal eyes boring deeply into her own. He had that coat on, luscious fur cuddling his neck, and it was then she noticed how bitterly cold it was.

The whole top layer of her skin seemed to have frozen over from the air alone.

She started shivering.

"Good," he nodded, turning on his heel and sitting down on a metal chair. Winry noticed enough to know that she was in an interrogation room. The only things that furnished the square room was a table bolted down to the concrete floor and the chair the man himself was occupying. She was sitting in one corner, hands cuffed and raw, and there was a door long ways across from her.

She could hear activity behind the door and Winry wondered if they were right in the middle of the facility they were holding her in...

"Where's Eddie?" was the first thing she asked.

"He's fine. I would be more worried about yourself than the little boy," the man replied icily. "After all, we bear no grudge against a child."

"Then why don't you send him back?" Her voice was fierce. "He has nothing to do with this! Send him back and take me instead!"

"Ah, such a selfless request. But you see, we can't do that." The man crossed his leg over the other in confidence. He gave her a confident smile. "We still need him to lure out Full Metal."

"He's dead." Winry spat, voice suddenly chilling to hear.

"Wrong," the man replied, tone just as icy as hers. "He's alive. He is somewhere out there, waiting for the signal to attack us and we will not give him the opportunity to send more Amestrian troops into our territory."

"Then... what does this have to do with me?" she whispered, eyes wide as she stared at the floor. Ed was alive? He was really, truly, _alive_? This was not some sick joke her mind had conceived, like so many times before? That man who had brutally murdered her grandmother had been telling the _truth_?

Could she trust this information?

"We need you..." he said, slowly, as if he were speaking to a child, "...to lure him _out_. I thought I had made myself clear before."

She ignored the jab. "So I'm your bait?"

"Correct."

She grimaced, leaning back on her thigh and trying to pull her cuffs apart. She flinched when the metal chafed her wrist again. "He won't come out, you know," she said quietly, grunting when her wrist began to burn with each clean cut the cuffs created. "He could care less about me," she lied.

She might as well keep them running around in circles if she was here.

"Oh? And why would you say that?"

"Because I was just a past time," she shrugged a little. Her eyes searched for a window, anything at all, but all she was met with was stone. "I was just, you know, a meaningless hook up. He accidentally got me pregnant, is all." At least the last part was truth. Winry remembered how majorly pissed off she had been when Eddie wouldn't stop crying in the darkest hours of the night.

It was _his_ fault for tempting her with those delicious eyes of his...

She stopped thinking about him. It hurt her to think about him, no matter what this man said regarding his well-being.

"It's amusing how you still intend on lying to me," the commander chuckled throatily. "You can stop now – it's futile."

"What evidence do you have that I wasn't just some girl to him?" she steamed. How could they take her word so lightly? She felt her lip twitch down into a scowl. Perhaps her anger was misdirected, as she was lying through her teeth at the moment, but it was rude to just mark off everything she said as a lie.

Winry cleared her throat, uncomfortable with her clashing thoughts.

The man reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a gun. He heaved himself up and pointed the gun to her with ease, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Winry had no doubt he probably had.

"Would you like me to shoot you now and get it over with? If you're truly telling the truth then we have no use for you. And if you were not, we could still use your corpse as a means to drag him out of hiding." He smirked. "Either way, Edward Elric _will _be caught."

Winry stared down the barrel of the gun, pale and full of dread, as she deliberated which would be the best course of action.

If she said she had been lying, that would only prove humiliating, something she would overcome within minutes.

If she did not negate her statements, she would die.

If she did die, Edward would still be lured out from wherever he was hidden and then he would probably die because of her thoughtless words.

And if she did die... what would become of Eddie?

He was already being raised fatherless. Now motherless?

Winry shut her eyes.

She would not risk her life for her own selfish reasons. Eddie still needed her. And Ed. She was vital to Ed's survival. He needed her even if he didn't know it yet.

She would _not_ – she refused – to lose him a second time... not for _real_ this time.

"... Sorry," she whispered, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. How did everything get so messed up in so little time?

"Hmm," the commander chuckled, putting his gun away. "As I thought, you _were_ lying."

Her eyes snapped open and she openly stared at him. "You mean, you-you actually believed me?"

He shrugged. "For a moment."

The door across her opened and a man with jet-black hair and light honey hazel eyes walked inside. He was tall, towering at a menacing five foot nine, and his hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail at the nape of his neck with his bangs slicked back; one piece of hair stubbornly sticking out in the front. He was dressed in the standard military suit: a fur-coat, black pants, and he had his badges clipped onto his right breast neatly. His lips were set at a thin line and Winry squirmed under his gaze.

He kept staring at her.

She accidentally pulled on her cuffs and she hissed, sending a dark glare at the commander who only smirked when he noticed. The other man, curiously, did not laugh. He looked even more severe than before.

"Ah, Major Benjamin Zhao, how are you today?" the commander greeted, pleasantly.

"Lieutenant Colonel Isaac," Benjamin replied crisply. He carried a folder in his hands. "Colonel Tucker will see you now." He handed the folder to him and Winry took this time to suck up her pain and pull her chains to see how far they would go. Her wrists hurt and her lower back was killing her but she did not let the pain show.

She wouldn't show weakness in front of the enemy!

The chains reached a few feet, enough for her to use the heel of her foot to scoot her deeper into the corner which had served as her bed for the past few hours or so.

Before Isaac left, however, Winry spoke up.

"Hey... Isaac?" She wouldn't show him respect. None at all. It wasn't like it would make a difference anyway, she reasoned.

The man paused and looked over his shoulder, a humored glint in his eyes. "Yes?"

She was silent for a moment. "If you hurt him, I'll swear I'll _kill_ you," she promised.

The man, Benjamin, sucked in a sharp breath and his stare became darker, less troubled and more grave at her statement. She ignored this, keeping her gaze locked on Isaac's.

A grin stretched across his face. "Such mighty words for a simpleton."

"Don't give me a reason..." She clenched her fists, nails digging into the tender skin of her palm.

"You're lucky we need you, you whore, or else you'd be spitting blood." Isaac slammed the door behind him with more force than necessary and they were left in a tense silence.

Winry turned her gaze to the Major who had taken seat where Isaac had once been. He couldn't seem to stop staring at her and Winry self-consciously covered herself with her arms. She allowed no man to look at her like that. No man but Edward.

"Damn it," she heard him breathe and reach up to rub the back of his neck. Winry narrowed her eyes and focused her attention on the man. She couldn't help but to notice he was very handsome and she quickly shot down those traitorous thoughts. But the more she observed him, the more frightening he became.

He reminded her a little bit too much of... Ed.

He stood up suddenly and walked to the door, where he peered down both ways before locking it shut again. Winry fearfully scuffled back using her heels, afraid of what might happen. There was usually only _one_ reason why a man would go check his surroundings when left alone with a woman...

The word rape kept reappearing in her mind.

"Holy shit that was too close for comfort," the man murmured to himself. Then he turned and the sight made Winry gasp. His eyes sparkled, in such a way that reminded her of Ed, and the gigantic grin stretching on his tan features was too familiar. The pain in her body faded into the background as a new pain arose, an emotional stab, that hit her like a brick before she could react. It weighed her down, made her seem more fatigued than she actually was, and had her threatening to give into the temptation of crying.

Life seemed to be crueler than usual...

"Who.. who are you?" she whispered, eyes wide and frightened. Heat trailed down her forearm and she barely noticed she had dug the sharp edge of the cuff into her already raw wrists.

His smile faded. He ran a hand down his hair – his black hair – and offered a tense smile. "Winry, you wound me," he chuckled, apologetically. "You can't recognize your best friend after all these years?"

"No..." she whimpered and closed her eyes. She shook her head in denial. She felt more blood spurt at her movement. Her wrists hurt so badly now but the sheer thought of Edward being alive was too much for her to bear; Riza's letters be damned, it was suddenly too _real!_ "No! It can't be! You're dead! You're dead! I saw the coffin! There's no way... there's absolutely no way that you can still—!"

"_Edward," Winry choked. She tentatively reached out to the coffin and barely managed to skim the smooth surface before she flinched back. She felt her grandmother slowly draw her away as they lowered the coffin into it's proper resting place. Alphonse's coffin had been lowered just hours ago, another painful event, and now it was Edward's turn._

_This one was the most excruciating._

_Hours after the funeral, Winry still stood before his grave. Her eyes were blank and hollow, her arms limp and posture tired. She stood there until her grandmother sent Gracia to look for her when the clock hit midnight._

_And she had no doubt in her mind she would had stayed there for much longer if nobody had come to get her._

"NO!" she cried out, shutting her eyes against the horrible memory and she pulled her wrists apart, tearing deeper into her wrist. The loss of blood was making her vision blur and her head spin but she didn't really care; she couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that he was _alive, _he was _here _and _with her_.

Not six feet under her, cold and rotting.

She felt him touch her shoulders; hands grip her arms, warmth quickly envelop her in it's soothing embrace before she could let the memory hurt her anymore. Winry opened her tearful eyes to stare into the man's oddly colored ones. Her eyes widened at what she saw and her chest ached with an explosion of glee and pain.

She could see specks of gold decorate the interior. The rest seemed to be translucent, almost as if he had placed stained glass in front of his pupil. The colors looked faded, a fake brown that mixed with the gold of his iris to create the discoloration.

Only one man could have eyes as golden as his...

"Ed?" she whispered shakily, wheezing in a breath. "E-Ed is that r-really you?"

Relief flooded his features and he nodded feverishly. "Yes! It's me, Win! Phew, I thought I was gonna' have to let you quiz me so you could trust it's really me." He chuckled emptily, touching her injured wrists gently. "Y-you're favourite color is still blue, right?"

"Ed!" She flung her arms over his neck and choked him in a hug. She vaguely heard Ed gasp as she squeezed her arms around his neck so tightly her own muscles hurt from the strain. Her back pains were coming back and her right wrist seared more than the left but she couldn't care less as she embraced her childhood best friend; the love of her life.

The weight in her chest lifted but the memory continued to haunt her; even as she stood underneath the pillar of light in the darkness she had been thrown into.

"Win... ry," Ed gasped, his arms gripping her just as tightly regardless. "I-I can't breathe!"

She loosened her grip but never let go. It was just enough to keep his airflow undisturbed. When she did let go, however, it was a good five minutes later.

She sniffled and quickly took his hand into hers, squeezing it to assure to herself that he was, indeed, real. "What.. what are you—why are you here?"

"Look, I only have a couple of minutes left," Ed told her seriously, clapping his hands together and touching her wrists. She watched in awe as the tissue sewed itself back together; blood begin to clot. The pain left her and the blood flow stopped. Her wrists were healed. "They're expecting me back to report anything you might've said. You said nothing, alright? I couldn't get anything aside from the fact that you were my lover out of you, understand?"

She nodded dumbly. "Alright. But-but what's going on?" Winry dug her blunt nails into his arm. "Ed, tell me what's happening!"

"I can't!" He sounded torn. "I don't have enough time and Al is back there, too, so I gotta'—!"

"Al's here too?" she pipped hopefully.

Ed smiled widely. "Yeah! He recently got promoted because of me." He sounded smug.

"That's great," she said warmly. Ed hadn't changed much aside from the obvious... and maybe he had gotten a little taller. Her smile disappeared when another, more pressing, thought pushed through all the other questions she wanted to ask: "Where's Ed?"

Ed blinked slowly. "...Is this a trick question?"

"Eddie," she repeated, sounding more panicked. "Eddie! My son! Where is he? Where did you—!"

"He's probably in the nursery," Edward answered, thoughtfully.

"Nursery?" she spluttered. "You people have a _nursery_? What, is kidnapping children a daily occurrence around here?" Her voice pitched in hysteria.

"No!" Ed yelled, defensively. "We recently created a nursery. I was wondering why for a while... they were expecting you, I see."

There was a knock on the door and Ed snapped his head up. He stood up from his kneeling position and let his hand slip from Winry's cold one.

"Damn," he cursed. He kneeled back down and pressed a palm on her cheek comfortingly. "Look, I'm in charge of this assignment so you'll be under my care. I won't let anyone hurt you, okay? Damn, you're freezing... I should—" Another knock. He seemed desperate for time now. "Just—don't say anything stupid, alright?"

"Excuse me, are you insinuating that I say stupid things?" Winry growled, slapping his hand away instantly.

"No! Not all the time..." he added as an undertone and just barely dodged a calculated kick. He sent her a sharp look as another knock echoed through the room. "I have to go now. I'll be sure to relocate you somewhere close to your son, okay?"

She held his gaze defiantly but he showed no signs of backing off. Another knock was heard and she tore her eyes from his not a second later.

"Fine," she huffed, touching her healed wrists. Was this a product of the new type of alchemy he had learned in Xing? Alkahestry, was it?

Before Edward attended to the door, however, he asked the question that had been pestering him for the past five years: "Is... is he really mine?"

Winry stared at him for a moment, reading the trepidation and fear that shadowed his eyes and made his shoulders tense. She lowered her gaze and smiled softly, thinking perhaps Edward really hadn't changed much throughout their separation. She felt excitement bubble within her at the thought of their reunion – there was absolutely no doubt that Eddie belonged to Edward.

The resemblance was startling.

"Yes, Ed. I haven't, um, been with anyone else except you."

"... Really?"

She looked up, face red with indignation. "What? Did you think I would cheat on you after all these years?"

"Well, I _was _declared dead..." Ed trailed off, muffling a yelp when Winry leaped up and smashed her cuffs atop his head. It was the next best thing to a wrench she had as her foot slipped and she fell against the wall, Ed barely managing to catch her before she fell down even more.

"Oww!" he hissed and sent her a scathing look. "The hell was that—!"

"Major Zhao, sir, is everything alright in there?" a soldier asked from the other side of the door.

Ed quickly composed himself. "Everything is fine. I'll be out in a minute. Go back to your post."

Winry heard footsteps slowly retreat and she looked up at Ed's grim face. He glanced down at her and sighed. "Well, I'm screwed." He grabbed the gloves he had discarded atop the table and headed towards the door. He absolutely loathed how paranoid Drachmian soldiers were.

It was almost as bad as the Briggs soldiers in Amestris.

He was sure this soldier was already planning to tell his superiors of his extended stay with the captive. It also didn't help that he had a pretty nasty reputation – he was just too hot-tempered to be around equally hot-tempered men to get out with a good image. He was lucky but not _that_ lucky. "I'll send someone to relocate you as soon as I can. Just wait a bit longer, Winry!"

Winry parted her dry lips, washed out pain returning like a tidal wave to crash into her chest and continue to damage her.

"I... I hate waiting for you, Ed."

He froze near the door. His hand hovered by the knob shakily, something close to fear tearing through his body at her words. Edward swallowed the bile of guilt that threatened to undo him and forced himself to turn the knob and push open the door. "... I'll check on Eddie immediately."

He left and Winry sank back down on her knees, shaking in rage and sorrow as her eyes betrayed her yet again and let thick tears stream down her cheeks.

Their reunion was bittersweet and anti-climatic, as she heard his footsteps slowly fade away.

Their reunion was nothing like she had imagined those few times she allowed herself to.

She never thought she'd cry tears of rage and sorrow when she was finally reunited with him; she didn't think he'd end up leaving her once more; she didn't think he'd be _working _for the very soldiers that wanted him dead but then again that had been the whole plan all along, right?

So she cried and let those harbored emotions escape in aching sobs as the cold began to make her lips blue.

She wondered when she would ever run out of tears.

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"Brigadier, sir!" Riza slammed the office door open and was surprised to see that it was empty. She pressed her lips together and cursed under her breath as she backtracked. She sped down the hall quickly, her heels clicking against the marble rhythmically. Soon she was face to face with the conference room, the only other room Brigadier General Roy Mustang could be in aside from his own office.

She rose her hand and rapped sharply against the wood. She waited impatiently, the folded paper tucked neatly into her breast pocket weighing her down.

"You may enter." a voice drawled from inside.

"Sir, I have urgent news for Brigadier Mustang, sir," Riza saluted and stood at attention. The people inside the room murmured to one another, sending her odd looks as Roy rose and apologetically excused himself.

"Nice call, Hawkeye," Roy smirked, closing the door behind him. Another boring conference between equally boring men. "I didn't think I could take another word that old geezer was saying! These guys are seriously behind on this war we've waged."

"Sir, I have urgent news." Riza dug into her pocket and pulled out the paper. She shakily handed it to him and watched as his eyes widened with every word he read.

"Shit!" he swore. His obsidian eyes locked on her and soon they were rushing down the corridor.

"How could this have happened!" Roy snapped, crumpling the paper in his palm. He had his gloves on and with a snap of his fingers, the paper blew up into flames. He let the ashes float into the wind as they hurried inside his office. "_How_ could this have happened?" Roy demanded, rage tinting his words. "Where are Fuery and Falman?"

"If I am not mistaken, they are still at Briggs, sir. They're still trying to hack into Drachma's radio communications."

"What about Breda?"

"I believe he is still in Rush Valley."

"Bring that bastard back here; I need to have a word with him!" Roy steamed, slamming his hands on the desk as he watched the Major rush to the phone and dial in a number. Roy closed his eyes and willed his heart to calm down.

If he was agitated he would make mistakes and he could not afford mistakes at the moment; not anymore.

Roy opened his eyes and stared darkly out the open window. The day seemed so nice, so peaceful with it's picturesque sky and lazy clouds. It was a deceiving sky, a front you could say, to hide something greater.

In this case, greater meant bad.

He smiled grimly.

_Time to go with Plan B, _he sighed heavily. _Good thing Riza made me create a fall-back plan or else we'd be in some real hot water right now..._

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"Phew, man is it hot here!" Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda sighed, wiping the beads of sweat that had accumulated at the base of his neck. He shifted his weight to his left foot and placed both his hands on his waist, sighing once more as the mid-afternoon sun beat down on him with it's intense rays.

Rush Valley was in its autumn season yet the sun was just as hot as summer.

He checked to his right, seeing the normal pacing of soldiers up and down the sidewalk. He checked to his left to see the same and nodded to himself.

All was going as planned.

Though there was absolutely no criminal activity whatsoever he couldn't help the sick feeling his gut warned him with. He leaned against the cool brick wall of the apartment complex he was currently shading under, pursing his lips before glancing back at the building he had been watching for the past few months.

The Rockbell residence.

Breda frowned, noticing how dark and silent the apartment looked. Usually they were up and about by now. He fingered his belt, which was equipped with a gun hostler and some knives, before releasing his hold on it. No one had entered the building, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no way anyone could have gotten into the building without his knowledge...

He really had to loosen up.

"Second Lieutenant, sir!" a soldier came sprinting from his right. Breda rose a brow and waited for the man to catch his breath and continue: "Brigadier Mustang calls for your presence in Central, sir! Immediately!"

"Whoa, whoa! Hold up, Central?" Breda furrowed his brows. "That's a days train ride away." _What __does he need me there for, anyways? _He thought suspiciously. _Unless something happened._ He hoped not. He could really use a break – Mustang had him running around for the last year or so with no breaks included.

"Sir, immediately! It seems that something serious has happened." The soldier adjusted his rifle on his shoulder and watched as his superior mulled over this. Breda suddenly snapped his head to the quiet apartment building across from them.

It couldn't be...

"Gather all the men you can and follow me!" Breda commanded and ignored the soldier's stuttered acquiesce. Breda felt his gut tighten with the familiar emotion of dread as he rushed up the stairs by two and kicked the Rockbell door open. He had his gun out and ready and he turned on the light immediately.

The sight that greeted him was not pretty.

There was no sign of forced entry and the only thing he could recognize as strange was the obvious puddles of what seemed to be blood that stained the hardwood floor. Breda could hear soldiers march up the stairs and he quickly scanned the living room for any more glaring evidence.

His breath caught when he saw a drag trail of blood leading from one corner of the room to the small hallway ahead. He carefully followed the trail. The soldiers were already inside the building by the time he made it to the cracked open bathroom door.

Breda pushed it open and nearly dropped his gun in his shock.

There, in the tub, was none other than Pinako Rockbell. She was strewn like a rag doll across the tub – half way in, half way out – and her eyes were shut tightly. In her hand was a pair of medical string and a needle and the blood crusted on the mirror, floor, and toilet seat itself looked as if it had dried hours ago.

This was bad.

Breda immediately knelt down and checked her pulse, even more surprised to see that she was still alive.

"Hey! Someone! In here!" Breda called, urgently. A soldier scrambled in and stared at the scene that confronted him. "Get me a doctor pronto! MOVE IT!"

"Who... is it..?" a weak voice came from below him.

"You're alright, granny! You're gonna' be alright! Hold on there just a little while longer!" he encouraged.

Breda grimaced as he carefully picked up the old woman and placed her down on the bathroom mat. He checked her for more injures and found that she had been stabbed violently in the shoulder, which still bled if she moved the wrong way. The wound was raw, disinfected, and half-way stitched. But it was swollen and ugly – the un-stitched areas raw and gaping. Breda shook his head in amazement at the old woman, who managed to partially stitch it without any assistance at all.

He smiled grimly. "You did good, granny."

"Where.. is Winry?"

In seconds, a doctor was standing by the door. The drafted doctor took one look at her and immediately called for back up. Breda let the doctor continue to examine her as he exited the apartment, overlooking every smudge of blood that his eyes seemed attracted to as more soldiers flooded the scene outside. He wiped off his hands against his blue pants, grunting when he caught himself in the reflection of the windows.

He was stained with blood and it made him sick.

The instant he was out of the crowd of frenzied soldiers, he distributed orders to everyone. As he did so, he saw that the doctors had hauled Pinako Rockbell onto a stretcher and were now carefully loading her into the special medical vehicle.

He watched them pack up and drive away as he gave away his last order.

He needed to get to HQ immediately.

Scanning the grounds, the Second Lieutenant found his ride in the form of a daydreaming soldier. "You!" Breda pointed, to the soldier in the car.

"M-me?" he stammered, pointing at himself dumbly as he snapped back to reality.

"Yeah, you." Breda quickly headed over to him and leaned into the scrolled down window. "You're not doing anything, right?" He opened the door and thumbed him out. "I need to borrow this car for a couple of days."

"O-of course, sir!"

Breda had the vehicle up and running before the young soldier could even blink. He gave a nod to the soldier before flooring it, the soldier staring at the retreating car with puzzled eyes. The Second Lieutenant roughly steered around a stubborn bend and continued his trip to Central with his foot pressed all the way on the gas.

He left a cloud of dust in his wake and the hot Rush Valley sun beat down on the hood of the car with intense strength, making his skin moist with sweat as the inside of the vehicle heated to an uncomfortable degree. Even the rolled down windows weren't helping him cool off.

"I don't know, granny, I really don't know," he murmured under his breath, going around a slow car. "All I know is that something went wrong... and your granddaughter might be in some serious trouble as we speak."


	4. Unraveling

**Wanderlust**  
_**by. **__Poisoned_ _Scarlet_

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**Chapter 4: **Unraveling

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Alphonse stood anxiously by a door. He could feel his stomach tie itself into knots – this was taking much too long! He impatiently waited for his brother to come out of the interrogation room and spill him the details on Winry. When he had gotten notified that Winry Rockbell and her son had been successfully caught, he felt his stomach plummet to his ankles.

The plan was to _not _let them successfully capture her! But Al had the sneaking suspicion that perhaps Ed had allowed this to happen for one reason or another he didn't bother passing onto his one and only brother?

Because everyone who knew Edward Elric would know that when he put his mind on something, miracles happened.

That was what he was expecting at that moment, standing as still as a newborn puppy, clutching the sides of his pants as several soldiers eyed him weirdly when they passed by.

He couldn't seem to keep still. He was too anxious and frazzled to keep still and his brothers lingering absence was not making it any better.

"Sho, you alright there?" one of his friends, a recently promoted Private, asked when he spotted him.

"I'm alright," Al smiled stiffly. "Just afternoon jitters, you know?"

"Yeah, I know that," he sighed, massaging his right shoulder. "You must've heard the news, too, huh?"

"News?" he asked politely.

"Well, Colonel Tucker recently announced that since we've apprehended Rockbell, we can move onto the next phase of the plan." He did not look very happy about this.

Alphonse felt dread settle in his stomach. "What's the next phase?"

"Invasion." The man smiled a shaky smile that did not reach his eyes. "We can now officially attack Central and East City and bring them down to the ground. General Yao really has all of this planned, you know? The soldiers, the alchemists and all that jazz..." The young man scuffed his boots against the floor and looked up into his friends wide and terrified eyes. "What?"

"_Alchemists_?" he hissed, looking both ways for eavesdroppers before continuing: "What do you mean by alchemists?"

"Well, obviously we're not going to attack a city filled with them with normal soldiers!" his friend scoffed. "We have our own secret weapons, too, you know!"

_Alchemists? _Al thought with increasing dread. _They have alchemists?_

"Wait, how do you even know all of this?" Al asked, before his friend could return to his post. Al was particularly fond of this man mostly because of his trusting disposition. He was kind and funny, something that Alphonse could relate to. And he wasn't as forceful or cold as other Drachmian soldiers. He was much more laid back and calm.

Alphonse would almost say he was... innocent to the horrors of life although the poor man had experienced the terrible horrors of being a Drachmian soldier.

"Colonel Tucker himself told me," he revealed, his gaze downcast. "He says he has a special assignment for me to execute." Alphonse was dead sure he heard fear lace those words. "Anyways, I-I gotta' go now! Good luck with your own missions!"

"Yeah, you to..." he bade farewell a tad too late. His mind raced as he digested the information.

Alchemists.

How could they have gone five years without ever hearing of those so-called 'alchemists'?

_Maybe they only recently acquired them? _Alphonse reasoned with perplexity. _No, that can't be right! They must've had them all this time... and chose now to reveal the information to the public. _That was better.

But now a new problem arose: how skilled, exactly, were these alchemists? Alphonse was pretty sure he could take on two or three, his brother probably more, but if they really did have a whole army of them? Scar had eliminated several vital State Alchemists during his reign of twisted justice several years ago and, from what Al had heard, the Amestrian military hadn't gotten many new applicants to take those fallen alchemists' place.

"Sho!"

"Yes, sir!" Al stood at attention when his commanding officer called for him. He had so many officers it was hard keeping track of each one of them.

"Go guard the damn nursery," he grumbled. "I'm not in the mood to look after one stupid brat."

"Um..."

"Just do it!" He threw him a pair of keys and marched down the hall in a black fury.

"Sir, yes, sir..." Alphonse scurried off into the direction of the nursery, scowling to himself at his commanders lack of mannerism. Back in Amestris, all soldiers had more class than these bunch of baboons.

Or at least they weren't as gruesome as these commanders – they knew when to hold back unlike Colonel Tucker or General Yao...

When Al managed to reach the nursery, he took a deep breath and checked both ends of the hall. There was no one in sight aside from the cold draft that whistled through the corridor as mist. He looked at the door knob apprehensively, convincing himself that he was just going to check on the child before returning to his post like he was ordered to.

Winry's child was kept in here, he was sure of it. Who else could it be?

It couldn't hurt to have a peek at Winry's child, anyway, right? She was like family to him!

And, if all went right, his future sister-in-law.

Alphonse shakily gripped the knob and turned. When it didn't open, he tried harder and harder until his hand hurt. Then he noticed that it was locked from the outside.

"Oh!" He flicked his forehead."Duh, Al, how stupid can you get?" he mocked himself, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the keys his commanding officer had thrown at him. "Honestly, you've been hanging around brother for much too long..." he chuckled.

When he opened the door, his keys dropped at what he saw.

There, on the floor right next to a beat-up heater, was a carbon copy of Edward Elric when he was a boy shy of six. Alphonse assumed the child was five or so and he was even more surprised to see the same spark of rebellion that Edward was infamous for glint in his eyes.

The little Ed lookalike hopped to his feet and pointed a wrench to his face.

Alphonse blinked once. Twice.

"Gimmie' my mommy back you big, dumb, freak!" The little boy screamed, raising his wrench and giving him a good whack on the knee as he rushed towards him with his eyes closed.

Alphonse resisted the urge to grab his possibly broken kneecap and resisted the urge to jump around in circles to calm the pain. He gave Eddie a shaky, frail, smile and forced out: "You.. are definitely... Winry's... baby..." before he gave into the impulse and gripped his throbbing knee.

Eddie frowned and lowered his wrench."Why are you still here'?"

"Because it's my job to protect you from the bad guys," Al replied, strained. The kid could really pack a punch!

"Oh... 'kay." He walked back to the heater and sat down. He hugged the wrench to his chest, watching the man clutch his leg. Eddie suddenly felt bad. He seemed like a nice man, unlike that scary officer who had knocked out his mother before grabbing his roughly by the cuff and shoving him out the door of his house. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," Al sighed, rubbing his knee once more as the pain ebbed. "You've been through a lot. I would have probably done the same thing."

Eddie rose his curious, big, eyes to him and smiled a little for the first time in hours. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Alphonse smiled warmly.

Eddie picked at the wrench, flicking his eyes to him ever so often. He seemed to make up his mind, for he placed the wrench beside him and helped himself to his feet. He was unsteady, and Al nearly reached out to grab him in case he fell, but he quickly regained balance. He ran all the way to the bed and took out a small carton of milk from underneath the blankets.

Eddie ran back to Alphonse and held it out to him in silent peace.

Al smiled and took the object, accepting the peace proclamation. "Why thank you...?"

"Edward," he worded carefully. "Mommy calls me Eddie."

"I see, Eddie." Al kneeled and pressed the carton back into his palm. "Here, drink it. It's good for you."

Eddie stared at the carton and pushed it back, wrinkling his nose. "It smells nasty."

Alphonse nearly burst out laughing. It seemed Edward's dislike for milk had managed to become a genetic trait. However, Eddie looked a little taller than how Ed had been when he was a child. He was also more quiet and timid-looking than Ed had been...

"Come on, drink it! It's really good for you!" Alphonse opened the carton and waggled it in front of him tantalizingly. Eddie only frowned. "It'll make you grow up big and strong!"

"Ungh," Eddie pouted. "Mussle called me a shortie." He seemed to sadden. "Mommy gets sad when Mussle call me short. Do'ja know why?"

"Who's Mussle?"

"He's big and he likes fire even though he's kinda useless when he's wet!" He made wild gestures to get his point across, a smile crossing his features. "He can make a lot of fire, though! It's cool—oh, and explosions!" He rose his hands over his head to prove his point, a toothy grin on his face. "He can make explosions, too! He showed me once with miss Riza!"

"Oh! You mean, Brigadier Mustang!" Alphonse giggled.

"Brig...a..," he wrinkled his nose when he did not get it right. "Br...igadi..dier. Brigadier!" He grinned when he got it right, looking up at Alphonse and expecting a praise in return for managing to pronounce the title correctly.

"You're such a smart boy! And you're so _cute_, too!" Al gushed, unable to help himself when Eddie grinned back brightly. "You're really intelligent for your age and _not_ short at all!" He added the last comment just in case. He doubted the world needed another Edward around, much less one with an explosive temper and a stature-related trauma...

"My mommy said I was taller than my daddy when I was his age!" Eddie confidently told him, causing Al to momentarily observe the boys stature again.

"You know what?" Al leaned down, whispering: "I think you're a whole two inches taller than your daddy when he was your age!"

Eddie's eyes gleamed. "Really?...hey, how do you know daddy?" His eyes narrowed. "Do you know where my daddy is? Mommy doesn't like to talk about him...she gets really sad when she talks about him..." he explained sadly, butter orbs drooping with gloominess.

Al didn't say anything for a moment. He reached out and squeezed his small shoulder, smiling warmly down at the boy. "Your daddy's just fine, trust me. He'll be with you as soon as possible and make your mom very, very happy again, okay?"

Eddie sniffled. His brows were creased, deliberating his words for truthfulness. Eventually, he nodded and said: "Okay! Thank you mister Al!"

Al beamed.

"Alphonse, what the hell are you doing—!"

Al froze, the smile stiff on his face as his brothers voice stopped abruptly. He quickly straightened up and turned to see his brother standing by the door, eyes trained on the miniature boy sitting on the floor.

Eddie's eyes widened and he grabbed his wrench, wobbling as he stood up hastily; scared by the approach of a strange man. In the process, his leg bumped against the open carton of milk. He stared at Edward timidly and backed away from them, ignoring the milk which pooled around his shoes.

At the man's severe expression, Eddie sniffed and felt his eyes start to water.

"Oh, no! It's okay!" Al quickly amended his brothers less-than-stellar entrance. "He's a good guy! He's good! He's my brother, see?" Alphonse stood back and smiled desperately, pointing between the two frantically.

Edward was speechless as he stared at his own flesh and blood and did not seem to hear Al's peace talk at all.

Eddie's tears began to recede once he noticed the similarities between the two.

"He's your brother?" Eddie mumbled, uncertainly.

"Yes, he's with us!" Al sighed in relief. He didn't think he would be able to take a crying little boy – not when he was so similar to Edward! Not only would it prove to be awkward but it would just break his heart to see his nephew in tears.

Eddie gave Al and Ed a long look over and he gasped dramatically when he eyes caught something white. He dropped his wrench and Alphonse barely restrained himself from jerking forward when it nearly hit his toes.

That was a close call...Al made a mental note to hide the wrench, least he hurt himself with it.

He stared at the floor, where milk was flooding a small dent in the floor. "Uh oh..."

Alphonse noticed this and only shook his head, a smile on his face. He continued with the same scandalized tone, though. "Uh oh is right! You never got to drink it, too!"

At this, Eddie shrugged. He wasn't too concerned with that.

Alphonse glanced up at Ed, who seemed to be having a rough time suppressing a smile at his lack-of-interest in drinking milk. "You know, it seems your milk aversion transferred into him as well," Al joked.

"Yeah," Edward chuckled, apprehensively. "Looks like it."

"Don't tell mommy!" Eddie rushed, grabbing their attention again. He seemed queasy, standing there watching the milk create a small river. He seemed paler, too. Edward wondered just how Winry punished the boy as he pleaded: "Please don't tell mommy! Mommy'll get real mad and throw a huge _fit_..." he wrinkled his nose. His mother threw epic fits, as his grandmother had joked.

"It'll be our little secret," Edward replied before Alphonse could. He watched his older brother interacted with his son for the first time and smiled brightly. Ed looked more alive than he had in the five years he had been in Drachma. "Promise?"

Eddie looked at him for a moment and then at the milk then back to him. He nodded several times. "Promise." He walked forward and held his pinky finger out in response, face serious.

Edward crouched down until he was leveled with the child – _his _child – and stretched out his pinky. They twined their pinkies together and both smiled at each other.

"Brother," he vaguely heard Alphonse call. He was too busy being fascinated by how much alike they both looked. Eddie had a darker shade of gold, nearly identical to his if not for the streaks of lightened blond he must have acquired from Winry. His eyes were molten gold, kindled with life and so warm with kindness; innocence. He had the same stubborn sparkle he was sure he always had and though he seemed more timid than how he was when he was a child, Eddie resembled him to the point of wariness.

He couldn't have been more proud at his aversion to milk, either.

"Brother, you have to go now." Alphonse sounded sad and he felt his heart break at the lost expression little Eddie wore at the words. "Colonel Tucker will be waiting for you and you know how he gets when you're late..."

Ed frowned, sighing deeply as he stood up.

Eddie looked so vulnerable from his position.

"Nooo," Eddie whined. "Don't go!"

"Sorry, kid," Edward smiled warily, as Eddie trusted himself to get closer to him and even tug on his pants a little – like he usually did with his mother whenever she didn't let him have his way. "I'll be back later, alright? Who knows, maybe I'll bring your mother here to keep you company!"

Eddie stopped suddenly and narrowed his eyes at him. "You promised you wouldn't tell!"

Ed laughed along with Alphonse, who was giving into his urge to touch Eddie by ruffling his hair a bit. Alphonse couldn't help it anymore and he reached down to pick him up, squishing him against him with a wide, excited, grin.

Eddie grabbed onto his sleeve as Al adjusted him onto his arms. Edward found himself slightly annoyed by his younger brothers facility with children. He sure as hell couldn't carry the kid, not as professionally as Alphonse seemed to.

Although he would admit that he was pretty good with children, carrying them was a _whole_ different deal.

"I won't tell her! Jeez, I promised, remember!" Edward smiled lopsidedly. "I always keep my promises."

"Okay..." Eddie trailed off, suspiciously. He played with a button on Al's coat, the furrow between his brows a clear indication that he was still mulling over Ed's sincerity.

"I'll stay here with him," Alphonse pipped, answering his brothers silent plead. "I was ordered to guard him anyways – I don't think Crume would mind if I kept him company for a while longer."

Ed nodded hesitantly before turning to leave, but not before he got one last look to Eddie, who watched him go with curious eyes as he clung onto his brothers black coat with his little hands.

He hated the fact that when he did close the door behind him, he could see his own fathers dark shadow leave him and his brother alone...

.

..

.

..

"Are you sure about this?" Roy asked, raking fingers into his messy black hair as he spoke on the phone. "Positive?" Riza watched him apprehensively from behind. "I see. Very well. Good bye." Roy slammed the phone into the receiver and closed his eyes to calm his nerves.

"We've just caught two Drachmian spies by Dublith and recently we've caught another within our ranks," Mustang leaned back on the edge of his desk and stared contemplatively at the floor. "They have suspicions that with every new soldier, at least one out of ten is a spy."

"Sir..." Riza bit her lip.

"But with every new spy that enters our ranks, an Amestris soldier has been sent out to join their military structure," Roy chuckled darkly. "It's a never-ending game of cat and mouse, it seems. One dies, another one rises..." He suddenly stopped tapping his fingers upon the wood. "Full Metal most likely knows of Winry's capture by now."

"He was assigned the task, sir," Riza supplied, clearing her throat. "She is in capable hands."

"Which leaves us with _our_ last task now that that's out of the way," he murmured, absently picking up a stray sheet of unfinished paperwork from his desk. "Fuery called a few hours ago. He said he managed to retrieve vital information crucial to our success in this war."

Riza waited patiently for him to continue.

Roy placed the stray sheet neatly beside him, moving it until it was perfectly aligned with the edge of the desk.

"They have alchemists."

Riza silently gasped.

"It seems Drachma has been doing their homework and trained several of their most elite soldiers in the art of alchemy. Each has a different type of alchemy they specialize in and only few have been taught multiple types..." He leveled his hand with his eyes, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "It seems I have a little competition."

"SIR!" The door flew open and Breda stumbled inside, breathing heavily. "Mustang, they've got Winry! Pinako has just been sent to the hospital after I found her in the bathroom, sporting massive injuries! I'm surprised she even lived as long as she did with those wounds..."

"I know," was all Mustang said.

Breda scrunched his brows. "You know? Then why did you...?"

"Breda, I need you to retract your squad from Rush Valley," he commanded, ignoring his subordinates questioning look. "You're going back to East City for immediate back up. They're starting to get frisky..."

Breda's mouth went dry. "Roy... you mean...?"

When Roy opened his eyes, darker than the black of night, there was a glint of triumph in them. Riza watched as he ran a hand through his hair again before reaching into his pockets to pull out his gloves, the transmutation circle standing out stark against the pale of the material.

"Phase Four," Mustang smirked, tugging his gloves on rightly and confidently. "Commence purge from the inside."

Breda smiled grimly, gripping the wood of the door. "Have you sent out the alert already?"

"It is on it's way."

"What if it's intercepted?"

"I've got it all covered, Heymans," Mustang dismissed his subordinates concerns calmly. "Now go. Fuhrer Grumman is getting impatient with the troops in East City and his letters of requests are getting on my nerves."

Riza closed her eyes and allowed a small smile at his petulant frown as Breda grinned halfheartedly.

"You'll never change, Mustang," he chuckled.

"Not planning to, either," he replied. "And Breda?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't take them lightly."

Breda laughed, slightly bitter. "It's war, Brigadier. You can't take things lightly even if you tried."

Roy was quiet for a moment. "They have alchemists."

"W-what?" he breathed, eyes going wide at the implications. "But, _how_? You never said anything about this before, sir!" he accused, voice wavering with anxiousness as he recalled the Ishval Extermination.

Alchemists. This would be devastating for both the result of the war and the civilians...he shivered at the sheer thought of this becoming a repeat of the harrowing Ishval Extermination.

"That's because we barely discovered this today," Roy informed, overlooking the expression of shock on his friends face. "Tell Grumman. We're going to need all the stray alchemists we can get if we're going to survive this war."

"There's not enough,sir."

"Sure there is," Roy drawled, somehow managing to be calm despite the ill feeling in his gut. "They have not had enough time to properly train their soldiers in the ways of alchemy – not by how many they are training at the same time. Alchemy is an art. An art not many people have the potential to wield. I assume that most of them will be wiped out by our troops quickly enough. We've sent some extra soldiers to Briggs, where they will be vigilant to any person who tries to cross."

"Isn't it a little too late for that?" Breda asked, wary.

"Oh, we're just looking for four people in general," Roy smirked suddenly, the emptiness in his voice replaced with sudden vigor. "Then the _real_ fun begins."

.

..

.

..

Six days later found Ed coming out of a conference room, bored to death but smug with how Amestris was holding out. It did not look very well for Drachma, who had deployed a whole company of alchemists to penetrate Briggs.

They had managed to do just that, despite General Armstrong's powerful and unrelenting soldiers, but they had managed to thin out the less capable alchemists like nothing at all.

However, the ones that did manage to penetrate the wall were most likely meshing with the normal soldiers – nearly unidentifiable in the swarm of bodies that battled savagely against Amestrian troops, which gave them the upper hand during the more dire of situations.

Edward, however, wasn't very concerned about the amount of casualties – even if it was _a lot _on both sides.

If all went as planned, and Roy managed to keep his word, then the war would be over in no time at all.

After all, Amestris had their own secret weapon they'd yet to deploy.

A shoulder bumped him on the way out, stalling him as he managed to disturb the healing bruise on his shoulder from his fight a few days back. He hated when they did that, as he knew it was on purpose, but there was really nothing he could do about it that wouldn't get him in major trouble or most likely beat up by the rest if he managed to get away.

The other soldier sent him a dirty look, swearing something nasty under his breath no doubt.

"Bastard," Ed spat, holding the documents in his hands so tightly they made his fingers hurt with the pressure. He so badly wanted to knock his lights out; in fact, he even made a list of the people he wanted to beat up when everything was over. Despite his easy going ways, it seemed he still managed to earn a bad reputation amongst the severe soldiers due to his quick climb in rank over the past few years and the fact that he was favored the most out of all of them for his, to his dismay, obedient behavior.

The Drachma military worked severely different than the Amestris military, give or take a few minor exceptions. One of them being their harsh training methods and another being that their ranks worked slightly different; as well as the government: it being communist, which involved its own set of laws and rules the citizens had to abide by daily.

The Drachma military also let gave their soldiers have a little too much freedom, in a sense.

He was used to seeing roughhousing between the soldiers in Amestris' State Military when he was younger but in Drachma things operated differently.

Most military personnel didn't really bother with the lower ranks, much like in Amestris, though they did take particular delight in sending them out to do dangerous tasks and only sighed when they had a high number of casualties. It seemed they had plenty of spares if they sent so many soldiers out to invade parts of Amestris and take down some Briggs officers...

In Drachma, when he had first been a Private, he had been submitted to several cruel hazes that sometimes left him coughing out blood or having to mend a broken rib or fractured bone. He didn't know if they did hazes in Amestris but he did recall an instance where Mustang had punished a whole squad for hazing one of their own and sending them to the hospital with a few sore limbs.

Since therein, Ed had never heard of another instance involving hazings and he assumed they had taken control of the callous initiation ceremony.

However, in Drachma, the tougher the soldier, the more horrible the hazes were. Commanders saw these hazes as a way to toughen them up and had no qualms on letting them beat each other up black and blue if that's what it took.

And Ed was a pretty damn strong soldier if he had any say, which meant he had been a victim of several hazes though he had been smart enough to pull some of his own with much success. Some of them involved alchemy and, though he was _not _suppose to know the art, he couldn't help himself sometimes.

_Like right now, _he thought with a small smirk, clapping his hands and pressing one palm to the wall. He watched the alchemical energy tear through the wall before settling on the floor, weakening some tiles to make it unstable.

Ed whistled as he turned his heel and went on his way, waiting a few minutes just to hear the "GAH! THE HELL?" come from a Lieutenant who had nastily commented on Winry's body in front of him.

_That'll_ teach the bastard to talk filthy things about his girl!

He looked up and narrowed his eyes at the woman who came bouncing down the hall, a half-smile on her tan face. Her black curls bounced ridiculously high when she jumped in front of him, offering a beam as he paused and rose a brow.

"What do you want now, Caroline?" Ed asked, lips turning downward into a frown.

Caroline merely huffed, stepping forward and trailing a finger down his chest. "No need to be so mean, Major, I was merely enjoying the sight," she grinned coyly, hand stopping on his waist as she hooked a finger through his belt suggestively.

Ed narrowed his eyes. "Stand down, Lieutenant, before I make you."

"Ooh, feisty," she snickered. "I always knew I'd like you from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

Ed only scowled, feeling impatient, watching the woman slowly walk past him, finger continuing to trail around him until she walked by completely. There was a severe emotion in her obsidian eyes as she passed by, conveying a message that had Ed's stomach in knots within seconds.

Ed clenched his fist, bowing his head and allowing a wary smile to cross his face when his fingers felt the texture of the paper that had been stuffed in them quickly.

"Call me Rebecca, Major! No need to be so stiff!" Rebecca howled in laughter, making Ed cringe.

"One day, your stupidity will come and bite you in the ass, Caroline!" Ed tossed over his shoulder, continuing his trudge back to the room he had relocated Winry. It had taken some convincing but he managed to let Isaac to allow him to locate her to a more comfortable environment, as it seemed the man held a grudge against the girl for her rebellious attitude and wanted to stick her in the holding cells down below.

It wasn't like Ed would let him, either way.

"Whatever, FM!" Rebecca laughed, as she turned around the corner before he could utter anything else.

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose. _Could she jeopardize this mission __any__ more than she already has? _Ed took the paper out of his hands and looked around cautiously before reading it. His eyes went wide once he finished reading the encrypted message.

He couldn't believe it.

_Just this once, I LOVE you Mustang! _Ed cheered in his head, punching a fist in the air before freezing and recomposing himself a little awkwardly; glancing around to see if anyone had witnessed the uncharacteristic burst of glee.

He crumpled the paper and started to feel laughter bubble up his throat despite himself. The sound was so foreign to his ears, he was glad to know that at least his vocals hadn't forgotten how to exactly produce a laugh.

He ran the rest of the way to Winry's cell room, ignoring the looks of surprise or shock at seeing the usually stoic Major so joyous. He nearly knocked the door off its hinges when he made it to Winry's room, panting and smiling when he saw her scowling at the vent overhead, a hand on her waist.

"Ed?" Winry stopped formulating an escape plan and watched Ed slam the door behind him and lunge forward to capture her in a strong hug. "Eh? Ed! What the heck's the matter with you!" Her face became red, when he spun her once.

"I can finally go home!" Ed grinned, watching her face melt into surprise. "Phase Four is complete. I just saw Rebecca down the hall – if she's here, then that means others are here as well and that means our job is finally over!"

"T-that's great, Ed!" Winry laughed, clutching his heavy jacket as he set her down carefully. Her fingers automatically clung to the sweater Ed had managed to supply her with from the laundry room, after he let her go. "This is great! You can go home now and—" she stopped. "Does this mean... does this mean you can finally... truly come home?"

He heard it loud and clear; the underline sentence of _can you finally officially discharge from the fight? _and he only smiled grimly in response.

He would never, truly, be out of it until the war was done and over with.

He could always be called back out for his alchemical services if things got rough.

She understood and nodded very, very slightly. Her fingers were tearing a hole in the hem of the black shirt she had come with six days ago. It still had blood crusted on it and her jogging pants had tears and more blood but they refused to clothe her with anything else aside from the sweater Ed managed to give her.

And that was because if she didn't have one, she'd freeze to death as even the heaters could not keep out most of the cold that permeating through the cement walls.

With a silent sigh, she walked to her springy cot and sat down. Her arms ached to have the familiar weight of Eddie and the nights were long and tiring without his peaceful breathing to sing her to sleep.

Edward sat next to her and placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. He had been more reserved these past few days, even though he spent at least an hour with her during lunch, break, and dinner. But she wasn't surprised by the reclusive behavior: it had been far too long for either of them to feel comfortable being the least bit intimate, unlike before.

They had caught up some, managing to avoid speaking about Eddie unless there was no other way. She was as delighted as she was envious to find that Ed had been able to interact with Eddie the past six days.

At least he had a dad to interact with, even if it were to be short-lived.

"You wanna' go visit him?" Ed asked suddenly, making her head snap up pleadingly at him. He nodded his head to the door. "I have authorization to bring you to him. He's been asking for you a lot, you know."

"Please," she stood up and worried her bottom lip. "Please take me to him, Ed!"

"Alright, lets go," Ed grinned, digging into his pocket to take out a key. "Follow me." She did and was surprised when he took out a pair of cuffs and snapped them on her gently, the cuffs opened wide enough that she could slip out of them if she liked. "Sorry, Win, but I can't have you walking around without these on. I wouldn't want people to think I went soft because of you!" Winry smacked him behind the head as he snickered, rubbing the bump with a smile.

They walked down several halls and Winry surveyed the area sharply. The walls were bare and glum and the corridors ran on forever. Very few people walked by them and whatever few did immediately sent her a sneer or a leer, and she had to watch Ed send them a dirty sneer of his own, something so volatile and foreign that it left Winry thinking that perhaps Edward _had _changed after all.

Even a little bit.

"Winry! Oh, Winry, you're alright!" Winry barely registered the voice before someone rammed into her, throwing her off balance. She laughed, relief flooding her when she noticed the dark blond hair and the gleaming dirty gold eyes of Alphonse Elric.

"Al! I-I can't believe it!" She squeezed him back, shutting her eyes as she cracked a wide grin. She could feel tears of relief brim in her overjoyed eyes. "Alphonse, you've gotten... bigger!" She patted his shoulder warmly, laughing harder when Ed looked away in annoyance and murmured something about him being taller than Al under his breath.

"Oh, right, keys!" Al remembered, taking out the set of keys that hung around his waist. He stuck the key inside the door and Winry's stomach churned with the pitiful food they had given her during her captivity. When the door opened, and a rush of heat blew in her face, she felt tears of sheer relief stream down her cheeks when she saw Eddie on the floor doodling quietly with a piece of chalk.

"E-Eddie?" she whispered, and watched him look up, dull gold eyes quickly flashing with surprise.

"Mommy?" Eddie stood up as she walked inside cautiously, unable to resist the sob that ripped her throat. Her muscles were tensed, her heart giving a plunge of relief when she saw that Eddie had not one scratch on him unlike herself.

She bolted to him and pulled him into her arms, dropping down to her knees and continuing allow the tear-flow. She felt him shake in her arms and she cooed him softly, adjusting him in her lap and brushing some strands of hair away from his face before trailing a hand down his soft, round, cheek. She noticed he was crying, too, and this only made her cry harder.

"Oh, god, you're alright," her voice cracked. "I'm so glad you're alright. You had me so worried... I thought I was going to _lose_ you... I-I..." She buried her face in his hair, a content smile on her face as Eddie gripped her dirty shirt and cuddled into her chest.

Ed watched the touching scene with a grim face. He watched her mumble incoherently and trained his eyes on Eddie's, which were also watery but locked with his without a seconds hesitation. He smiled brightly and Ed felt the hard emotion which had captured him in its lock slowly begin to release.

A lighter emotion settled itself in his eyes when Eddie continued to curiously stare at him.

Alphonse nudged him and whispered: "Isn't it fascinating how he knows that you're just a stranger but he feels a connection towards you?"

"Yeah," Ed whispered back, softening his eyes when Eddie clutched his moms shirt and nuzzled his nose in her shoulder. "It is."

It took her a few moments but she composed herself. She cleared her throat and wiped away stray tears from her cheeks, smiling warmly when Eddie tried to do it for her with his tongue sticking out cutely from the side of his mouth. She frowned when she noticed how dirty he was.

"You need a bath," she wrinkled her nose, prodding the chalk dust smeared in his cheeks. "You stink."

"Nooo..." Eddie whined, pouting. "I don't wanna' bath!"

"You're going to take a bath," she stated firmly, sighing when he tried to wiggle out of her arms. She held him tighter. "Please, Ed, behave! C'mon..."

"NO!"

"Eddie!"

"I don't wanna' bathhh...!"

"Edward!"

"Nggh! No!" He tried desperately to squirm free from her arms.

"Edward Royce Rockbell you stop this right now before I get really angry!" she snapped, scowling. "Don't make me take your toys away again, Ed."

He stopped, turned to her with huge, gold, eyes. "But mommy I don't wanna' bath! I don't _need_ it!"

"It's not that you don't _want_ to, it's that you _have_ to," she scolded, kneeling and pushing him out at an arms length. She sniffed him and backed away exaggeratedly, smiling as he smelled himself and wrinkled his nose as well. "See? You need a bath, don't you?"

"Nope," Eddie beamed. "Mister Al says its okay to not takes baths 'cause baths waste water and' they need water here so its okay. I don't want or need a bath 'cause I waste lots of water and we need it for other...stuff, like drinking!"

Her smile fell completely and she turned slowly to Al.

Edward leaned against the door frame, snickering at the aghast look on Winry's face.

"What's wrong, Win?" Al cocked his head in puzzlement at her glowering stare.

"Do you know what you've just _done_!" she shrieked, groaning as Eddie giggled hysterically and pulled away from her grasp, running to the cot and bouncing on it as he laughed and clapped his hands. She had a feeling he knew why she was so exasperated... smart little boy... "It took me _months _to break him from his mud-rolling habit and now he's going to use this against me!" Winry rubbed her temples. "He's going to get dirty on purpose and he's going to waste even _more _water," she shot him a sharp look, rolling her eyes when Eddie merely slapped his hands against his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Winry asked mock-stern, frowning when she noticed something sticking out from underneath the sheets. "What is that?" She strode forward and was shocked by how fast he leaped upon the bumps on the mattress.

"N-nothing!" Eddie squeaked nervously, ducking his head from her suspicious frown. "Mom, did'ja know his name is Edward, too!" He pointed to the older Elric, who was having a hard time restraining a grin when he noticed the shapes under the blanket.

He remembered trying that distraction method when he was little and frankly it never worked.

Not for long, anyways.

Winry nodded sharply. They stared at each other for a moment. Then, without warning, Winry struck and grabbed Eddie by his midsection, smirking in triumph as she set him down on the floor gently and she pulled the blanket away.

What she saw made her gawk.

She grabbed a carton of milk, shaking it and seeing that it was full and unopened. There were about eight more on the bed. "W-What is all this? Eddie, why haven't you drunk your milk!" She stopped, mouth still dropped open, and laid her eyes on Ed, who was standing rigid by the door.

It all made sense now...

"Whatever he told you is a _lie_!" Winry shouted, ignoring Ed's shouts of indignation. "It's a lie! Its all a lie! Eddie, you're going to drink your milk!"

"NOO!" Eddie howled, eyes wide in horror. "I'LL TAKE BATH! NOT THE MILK!"

"ED!" she growled, popping open a carton and chasing after the boy. He ran pretty past for a five year old... "Ed! Come back here! Damn it, Ed, get back here before I make you!"

"WHAAA!" Eddie screamed, though a smile was a apparent on his face. He circled around Winry twice before making a break for the door. Edward stepped between him and the exit and smiled apologetically when Eddie sent him a betrayed look.

Instead, he motioned to his leg and Eddie took the hint and hid behind them, peering through his legs to see his mother's flustered and scowling face; holding a carton of milk in her hand.

"Hiding behind him won't work," Winry warned, shooting Al a look when he snorted in laughter. "Ed, move."

"Nope," was his flat reply.

"Ed." Winry stood straight, face drawn emotionless. "Move. Now."

Ed swallowed and shook his head. "No can do, Win."

She exhaled sharply. "Move."

Ed felt Eddie grip his pants tightly and he felt even more compelled to protect his child now more than ever. He wasn't going to let him suffer through the nastiness of milk! Not if he could help it!

Ed shook his head and squawked in shock when she took out a wrench from seemingly out of nowhere.

"What the _fuck_!" Ed shouted, alarmed, slamming back to the door but making sure not to crush Eddie with his weight. "Where the hell did you get that-that _thing_ from?"

"It was tucked under his sheets!" Winry shouted back, eyes flashing. "Now move before I make you, _Major_!"

Ed flushed red and snuck a glower at Al, who was clutching the wall in an effort to stay quiet and not attract Winry's attention with his laughter.

"N—" her hand rose higher and Ed apologized to Eddie in his mind. "Fine! Fine, I'll move! Now drop the wrench, woman, before you give me heart failure!"

She smiled in satisfaction, watching him move and chuckling when Eddie moved with him.

"Sorry, Eddie, but she's got me cornered," Ed admitted, gently grabbing his little arm and tugging him lose from his pants. Eddie merely grabbed his hand with both hands and didn't let go, eyes fearfully trained on his own. It really broke his heart to know that the poor kid was going to get submitted to the ultimate childhood torture: drinking your milk.

"Come on, Eddie, it's not that bad," Winry kneeled and coaxed the milk carton in front of him, sighing when he dug his head into Ed's pants and shook his head. She looked up and stared at Ed, who blinked back.

"What?"

She rose the carton and Ed blanched.

"Oh, no!" Ed shook his head furiously. "Like hell are you going to make me—!"

"Please!" she whispered urgently, brows furrowed in concern. "He won't drink it unless someone else does it and you know as well as I do that he needs the calcium." Her hands brushed the little boys arms, frowning deeper when she noticed they were chubbier before than they were now. He had lost weight. "He needs to eat something. He's gotten a lot thinner..."

Ed stared at the carton bravely for a few moments. She had a point: the little boy didn't eat as often as he was suppose to, not with how annoyed the soldiers were at having to feed him at least two times a day...

_The shit I do for her, _he thought with a sigh. Eddie lifted his head and watched with wide eyes as Ed snatched the carton from her hand and, without a seconds thought, drained it completely in one shot.

Eddie's eyes glittered with admiration. "Wow..."

Ed dry heaved a bit after he finished, shaking his head against the nasty aftertaste. "Drink it, Eddie, it's good—good for you," he choked out, avoiding Winry's fond look. An affectionate look, no matter how much he craved it, wasn't going to make his stomach settle down.

Thanks to her, Ed thought sourly, he was going to have indigestion for days.

"... Really?" Eddie asked, still in awe.

Winry walked back to the cot and got another carton of milk and, after a moments deliberation, handed it to Ed once again.

"I am _not _going to—!" Ed began, frustratedly.

"It's for _him_," she rolled her eyes, motioning to their son. "Don't worry, Ed, you've done your job. Thank you." She watched as he kneeled down with a scowl on his face and popped it open, giggled when he wrinkled his nose against the smell, but over all was impressed by how easily he was able to coax the boy into drinking the milk.

It took her nearly an hour to get him to drink his milk and that was on a good day.

"It tastes bad and it's probably the worst thing in the world," Ed started, slowly. Eddie listened attentively. "But it's actually good for you. The calcium in milk is sparse but its enough to help nourish your bones to withstand a shitload of pressure." He cringed when Winry gasped and Al snorted in laughter.

Right.

Bad words.

Toddler.

Not good.

Eddie blinked owlishly. "Shit—?"

"NO!" Ed coughed, clearing his throat. "No, don't say that or the evil bad man will come and get you again!" That _worked_ with Nina when he had let the 'd' word slip...

Eddie gasped fearfully. His fingers tightened around Ed's knees. "E-evil bad man? The one that hurt mommy?"

His eyes hardened but he nodded. "Yes. That one. Never say that word again, you hear me? Only I can say that word because – I'm an adult." Eddie nodded feverishly. "Good. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, drink your milk before your mother decides to crack my skull open." He handed it to him and Eddie grasped it in his hands.

He began to drink it slowly.

"Hey, watch it, don't spill it all out!" Ed helped him drink it by holding it up lightly with his fingers. Some of if split onto his shirt and Ed caught onto what he was doing immediately.

"Nice try, but that won't work with me. I've tried it before," he declared smugly.

Eddie laughed into the carton, bubbling milk up his nose and making a mess down his shirt. "Ugh, that's seriously gross." Ed pulled the half-finished carton away, digging into his back pocket to wipe away the excess milk that dripped down his mouth with a handkerchief. "Now drink it right before I decide to shove it all down your throat!"

"Mommy'll hit you!" Eddie warned, making Ed smirk.

"Probably. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" He put the carton to Eddie's lips, tipped it up, and watched the little boy quickly drain the pint sized carton. Once he was done and with one last wipe of the mouth, Eddie sneezed and rubbed his nose.

"Oh, here," Winry bent down and wiped away the mucus with her hand, making Ed fake-gag and earn a knot on the head with her fist.

"Ouch!" Ed sent her a look that read _the hell you do that for? _and she only smiled smugly after she cleaned her hands on the handkerchief she snatched from him. She picked Eddie up and letting his head rest on her shoulder. She patted his back softly as she cautiously backed to the bed, where she sat down and allowed him to lay on her lap.

"That wasn't so bad, was it, Eddie?" she cooed, smiling softly when Eddie nodded his head lazily and closed his eyes. She felt him raise his hand and she quickly pulled it down. He did it again and managed to bite his small fingernails. "Don't do that, your hands are dirty," she pulled his finger out of his mouth. He groaned into her lap and she only patted his back. "You know you're not suppose to bite your nails. Your hands are dirty and you'll get sick. Remember what happened last time?"

He stopped trying to struggle and she smiled.

"What happened last time?" It was Ed who surprisingly said this, not Al, who had his mouth parted to ask the exact same question. The younger Elric was impressed: his brother was showing interest. Actual, true, interest; not just eavesdropping or letting him take care of the questioning because he felt too awkward to do it himself.

"Well, it was when he was younger, he got into the habit of sucking his thumb," Winry started, adjusting his legs on the bed a bit. "One day we went to visit Mister Garfiel and he was touching a lot of the tools on the tables. I think he must've ingested something nasty because next thing I know he's complaining about a stomach ache and starts throwing up all over the place," she hugged him tighter. "I had to take him to the hospital because it got so bad. The medicine granny and I were giving him wasn't strong enough for whatever he ate. So now I don't let him stick anything foreign in his mouth, even if he wants to!"

Ed looked at Eddie before looking back at her. "You sure are hard on the kid." There wasn't any conviction or irritation. She detected pride and perhaps a hint of admiration in his tone, making her smile widen.

"He's... had a rough childhood," she murmured, eyes dulling at the things she had heard around Rush Valley during her short stay. Everyone knew he was the Full Metal Alchemists son – it was common knowledge now; gossip that never got old in the busy town. She'd been pestered by several people, had many shake their head at her and complain about how shameful it was to have children out of wedlock, and even had some scowl down at her for her single mother status.

When everyone had discovered Ed and Al's deceased status, they wouldn't stop with the pitiful looks or shakes of the head.

"_Poor child, all he has is his mother now..."_

"_No one told him to join the military! That just goes to show you how reckless kids are nowadays without proper parenting!"_

"_She's so young! Barely a child herself and she already has one of her own!" _

Winry hated the talk but persevered through it for the sake of Eddie, who kept her distracted enough not to let the comments and whispers get to her.

She had so much to be thankful for, as the little boy managed to keep her entertained even on the most boring days.

She supposed she should thank Ed for the boy but she thought against it as it would only make him smug and... she vividly remembered the painful process of labor.

She didn't want to go through that again; no matter how much she wouldn't mind having another little one running around her feet.


	5. Sacrifice

**Wanderlust**  
_**by.**__Poisoned_ _Scarlet_

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**Chapter 5: **Sacrifice

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It had only been a few hours since she held her precious son and she could already feel herself mourning the distance between them. The little boy had been near tears when Edward said that she needed to return to her cell and she had been very tempted to just stay with Eddie even though she knew it just couldn't be.

She sat on the edge of her bed, hands on her lap, and ignoring the shivers that wracked her body from the small window above her head; blowing in the frigid air of Drachma. There wasn't anything she could do about the window – she couldn't even stuff a cloth into it to block the harsh winds because she was no where near tall enough to reach it.

Edward had told her, as they walked back to the cell, that he and his brother would construct an escape plan the instant they returned to the barracks. Edward was able to reassure, though, that they would be out of Drachma military headquarters in two days tops – three if they had some sort of delay.

She trusted him.

Despite the fact that they had been separated for nearly five years, she still trusted him wholly. The repressed love she had locked up and stored away in her heart was starting to leak through the cracks in her heart; start to show her just what she had been missing all these years. The raw emptiness inside of her was sewing up, healing, and even though she felt some resentment against him for his willingness to leave her waiting so easily, it was hard to keep that ire flaming when all she wanted to do was be held in his capable arms once more.

As if acting on this subconscious desire, she wrapped her own arms around her; another shiver rippling through her body.

She hadn't seen anyone but Edward throughout the long stay in captivity. He had been the one in charge of bringing her food and the such. She was grateful, to say the least, but at the same time apprehensive. She was awaiting some sort of tragedy to befall her, no matter how optimistic she tried to be, and the reality of the situation was enough to sober her up in that moment and contemplate a plan of her own.

Escape _seemed_ possible.

She could vaguely remember the layout of the building but she was positive that she could scope her way out if something happened. All she was really concerned about was Eddie, who, even if they made it out, wouldn't be able to withstand the cold for too long. There was only so much heat she could offer before the child succumbed to the deathly touch of ice.

The door creaked and Winry looked up, a smile forming on her face.

That smile, however, fell when her eyes landed on icy black ones.

_Isaac, _she recognized, standing up and balling her fists to the side as a burst of loathe sparked in her heart. Thousands of scathing remarks were on the tip of her tongue, as the man shut the door behind him and stood board straight; coal eyes calculatingly surveying her.

"What do you want?" she spat. "Well?"

Isaac smirked. "I was simply checking up on you, Miss Rockbell. I wouldn't want our most precious hostage to _freeze_ to death..."

"I'm fine!" Winry snapped. "Snow isn't going to be the death of me!"

"You're right," Isaac mock-agreed. "You do seem fine. A little too fine, don't you think?" He leaned against the metal door, crossing his arms over his chest. "The Major seems to be doing a mighty good job at taking care a mere hostage..." he trailed off, flicking burning charcoal eyes into her own. "Suspicious, don't you think?"

She suddenly remembered Edward grumbling something about paranoid Drachmian soldiers. They became highly suspicious should their noses sniff out something that didn't seem right – even if it was just a smidgen. Winry knew, as Isaac stared at her, that his sharp nose had caught something amiss and it would only be a matter of time before he discovered that Edward had been bringing her more food than a prisoner should have and keeping her in the best health possible with her being a military hostage.

"Surprised I'm not spitting blood?" she sneered.

"Zhao strikes me as the type to beat you for everything you're worth, Miss Rockbell," Isaac sneered right back. "I would have never thought him to soften his heartless ways for some Amestrian slag such as yourself," he smirked slyly. "Have you already let him fuck you? What would your precious Full Metal Alchemist say to that..."

"SHUT UP!" Winry shrieked, rage clouding her mind. "Shut up! You don't know anything! You'll never find him!" She grinned at the suddenly severe look on his face. "You'll _never _hurt Edward," she hissed. "You're too late."

He moved in a flash. She didn't see him coming until his hand connected with her cheek, flinging her back on her stiff cot with a head-jarring slap. She clutched her cheek, barely restraining a sob as Isaac leaned over and grabbed her by the back of her shirt; hauling her up into a sitting position.

He bent, grabbing her chin roughly and hissing, threateningly: "Is there something you'd like to share with me, Miss Rockbell?" His bony fingers dug into her tender skin, bruising it under the icy touch. "I would advise you to spit it out right now, while you're still in one piece."

"You...can't hurt me..." she choked, fear starting to make her stomach roll.

"Can't hurt you?" Isaac leered, smile threatening to break the menacing expression. "Why, whoever gave you that idea? Zhao?" he supplied, scrutinizing her expression for anything that might give away her thoughts.

"No," she whispered. "I just...assumed you couldn't hurt me...because you need me as...bait," she tremulously said, as his fingers sunk deeper into her chin.

"Well, you assumed _wrong_," Isaac replied, mock-sweet. His hand swiftly grabbed her thick locks of hair and roughly threw her to the ground, where he watched her without a single shred of remorse as she picked herself up, shoulders trembling with restrained sobs and a hand reaching up to touch the spot that burned from having her hair pulled out.

He walked forward calmly, raising a foot and kicking her down again, stepping on her like the bug he saw her as. He used her as a mat, wiping his boot on her back, and delivered a bone-crunching kick to her rib, making her roll with a loud cry that was quickly silenced by another rough shove with his boot.

"Don't be mistaken," Isaac began, passionless. "I cannot kill you – that goes against my orders. But they said nothing about breaking a few bones." He kneeled down, making her turn to him by snapping her head up to him with another root-burning pull to her hair. "Let's get you fixed up for your grand entrance, what do you say?" he smiled cruelly. "You're time to make yourself useful is almost here..."

Winry felt tears start to trail down her cheeks at the dark promise in his eyes. Despite herself, she shakily scooted back, a whimper bubbling up her throat as she stared into his murderous eyes.

The eyes that her granny had seen last before she passed away.

_He...can't kill me, _she chanted in her head. _But he...can really hurt me._

This man was dangerous.

This man was capable of coldblooded murder.

It finally dawned to Winry, as Isaac straightened and loomed over her, face shadowed by the blanket of darkness that covered her whole cell, that he could _really_ hurt her. If the bruising kick to her side and rough handling meant anything, this seemed like a type of warning; a foreshadowing of sorts as his expressionless eyes bore into hers.

"You will lure out Full Metal," he stated, the fear in her eyes making him smile. He liked the control; the power he held over her. The sudden cautious, fearful, glimmer in her eyes gave him a sense of security; something which told him that she was now under his hand and ready to be crushed by his fist at any given moment. "We'll kill you both if it comes down to it," he smirked. "Don't worry – we will take in your spawn with no trouble at all. Who knows, he might even be accepted in our school system if he plays his cards right."

Isaac left her with these fears, walking out and closing the metal door behind him. He could hear her, as he leaned against the door, hear her crying and sobbing and no doubt terrified at the thought of being killed and having her son raise himself.

He smoothed back his hair, thinking: _as if we'd ever accept a filthy Amestrian into our society. _He strode down the hall purposefully.

His visit had had meaning, of course, as he took a few turns and made it back to the main building; which was rather lonesome because of the time.

Women were easier to handle than men because women were more in tune with their feelings. To use these strong emotions against them was a piece of cake for Isaac, who had used and abused so many women there really wasn't anything exciting about it anymore; no more of that guilty thrill he got when he was younger.

He had half a mind to defile Winry Rockbell – just so he could smugly say, once Full Metal and she were both locked up and due for their death, that he had had his way with his woman; how did that feel?

But he wouldn't.

His nose wrinkled.

He had more taste than that.

However, as he nodded at Major Zhao, who nodded back with equally passionless eyes, he thought that perhaps he'd even invite this man (although he still had an inkling the younger man had already had his taste of the Amestrian slut) and they would both have their way with the whore before dragging her out of the cell and advertising her for all to see.

He paused. "Major?"

Major Benjamin Zhao stopped a few steps behind him, answering: "Sir?"

"I have just come back from the hostages' cell," he informed. "She know's something about the Full Metal Alchemist that she is not telling us. Make her speak. I do not care what you have to do to make her speak," he instructed. "Just do it and report back to me at 0900 hours tomorrow."

"Sir, are you sure?"

Isaac turned his head a fraction, eyes narrowed. "You question me?"

There was a brief pause. "Of course not, sir, I just wanted to make sure. I wouldn't want to waste my precious sleep just because she was toying with you..."

Isaac considered this. She did look rather scared and she had already proven herself to be a liar. It wouldn't surprise him if this, too, had been a lie simply to thrown them off and make them insecure. "Agreed. She might've lied. Either way, interrogate her and if you are positive there is nothing she is hiding, you may leave."

"Sir, yes, sir."

Isaac turned and watched him stride back down the hall. Zhao took a turn and entered the Records Room. He had seen a folder under his arms, no doubt for delivery into the office but he did not usually do such menial tasks...he shook his head and turned on his heel, heading back to the higher ups sleeping quarters.

He would inform Colonel Tucker of the recent developments and would request for a speed up on their plans. He wanted to capture this Full Metal Alchemist as quickly as he could and get rid of him just as fast. Of course, he had a few plans...involving a few tortures, since that accursed alchemists had cost him so much of his time and his _dignity_, the smart-mouthed shit...but for now he would make do with what he had: the Rockbell woman and her son.

Her son.

He was highly against harming children. The child had nothing to do with this, he was merely an unfortunate little person caught between the conflicts of rivaling countries. But that did not mean that he couldn't use him as bait or as a threat.

He would not let harm come to the child, for sure.

But he _would_ use him for all he was worth to get what he wanted.

Because no one escaped the clutches of Isaac Wolcott.

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Edward peeked out from the door, watching his superior officer walk away. He quickly went back to what he had been doing before: sending encrypted letters to his other superior, Roy Mustang. He mostly used the Record Room to freely write his letters as no one would suspect him doing nothing else but writing up a quick report or two and he could waste all the paper he wanted, which was a perk as sometimes he had to rewrite his letters when they got too long or detailed...

He folded the short letter three times and slipped it into his coats inner pocket. After dropping the folder he'd snatched from a random officer when he wasn't looking, he stepped out into the hall, fixing his coat as he looked both ways.

After making sure no one was there, he began his walk to Winry's cell room. He was relieved that he had been chosen to be in charge for her in the beginning. He was able to properly monitor her without it seeming suspicious and it was the best way to keep her safe and sound.

The only ones allowed into her room would be those who outranked him and he was positive none of the higher ups would waste their time messing around with her; not when they had bigger things to watch out for, for example Amestris' sudden come back in the war.

However, Isaac...

He walked faster.

He ticked off some keys and slipped the correct one into the lock, turning it and pushing the door open. He peeked inside, whispering: "Winry? You awake?"

She didn't answer.

Ed knew something was amiss immediately. His stomach plummeted to his ankles and he shut the door behind him, eyes flickering all around the room for any signs he hoped he wouldn't see.

He noticed she was lying on her bed, curled on her side, and he immediately walked toward her.

His hand hesitantly touched on her arm, eyes narrowing a fraction when she flinched by curling in tighter. "Winry?" He kneeled, shaking her. "Winry, are you okay?"

"Y..yeah, I'm fine."

Her voice sounded thick; strained, like she had just recently stopped crying.

His stomach twisted.

He stood up again and reached down to roll her on her back. She resisted for a few seconds, which only made him try harder to see her face. When he did, his blood ran cold and an emotion he hadn't felt in a while came burning up his throat.

She didn't look at him. There was a dry, rusted red, crust of blood trailing from the corner of her mouth down the curve of her neck. Her cheek was swelling, spreading to the underside of her eye and skimming the top of her lip.

"Winry, sit up!" Ed commanded, urgency leaking into his words. "Shit, who did this to you?" His anger was starting to boil as she slowly sat up, wincing and grabbing her side. "Winry, who—did Isaac do it?"

"No one did it, Ed," she whispered, sucking in a sharp breath. She closed her eyes, clamping her mouth shut to resist the cry when her ribs burned. The acidic spill in her side, which she could feel increase with ever false move, was nearly unbearable.

"What's wrong? What hurts, Win?" he asked, his eyes flickering to her side, which she hovered a shaky hand over. "Lay down." He gently rolled her on her side, rolling her shirt up to see an ugly red spot on her ribs. His sharp eyes could see the developing bruise and he felt something hot and boiling begin to stir in his chest at her injuries.

His hands fisted, balled at his sides, and then Isaac's words came back to him and he very nearly tore out of the cell in search of his blood.

"That son of a bitch," he snarled, muscles tense and ready. But Winry's hand reached out and took his bleached white hand in her own; gently coaxing the fingers loosen with her cold fingers.

"I brought it on myself," she said, controlling her breathing to avoid the sharp pains in her sides. "I knew he could hurt me but I..still did it."

"This isn't your fault!" he replied, furiously. "Don't you say that its your fault because its not! He didn't have any right to hurt you, not while you're under my damn watch!" he harshly spat, gold orbs crackling with fury.

Winry grunted, face flashing in pain when she tried to sit up.

His anger was momentarily replaced with concern. "No, don't try to sit up! You're hurt, fuck I'll go get the first aid kit and—!"

"No," she shook her head, inhaling a sharp breath. "You can't."

"What—like hell I can't!" he shouted, angrily. "If I want to then I'll do—!"

"He'll know," she reminded, voice soft. "He already knows something is going on. We have to watch our step now so it's better if you just leave me like this for now...it's okay, Ed; I'm technically a doctor. I just have a couple of bruised ribs and a swelled cheek – it's nothing some ice and a band aid can't fix after all this is over," she smiled, reassuringly.

The look on his face was the complete opposite of hers. She was sure he would go into a stomping, steaming, tirade on all the reasons she was wrong and he was right but instead of doing just that he shut his eyes and fell on his knees and slumped forward, resting his forehead on her hand as he tried to contain the uncontainable fury boiling within him.

He couldn't screw this up – not when they were so _close_ to leaving...

Winry, hesitantly, slipped her hand out from under him and placed it on the crown of his head. The motion was nostalgic. She remembered Edward would do this a lot back when the days were long and lazy and the nights were hot and steamy. The affection in the single pat was something she cherished and now, as she did it to him, digging her fingers into his slicked back hair, she wondered if she could inject as much affection into the simple gesture as he did so easily.

Without warning, he lifted himself off his knees and leaned over her, troubled eyes gazing down at her. She could see the inner conflict in his usually lazy gold eyes and she offered a small smile of comfort when she caught the flash of blistering fury that illuminated his eyes a burnished shade when his eyes trailed over the swell on her cheek.

Against herself, against the timid voice that told her to just stay still under his gaze, her hand tentatively rose up and curved to the slope of his cheek. He was warm against her ice cold hand but he didn't seem to mind since he leaned into the touch, face still set stony.

"Don't do anything stupid, you alchemy freak," she whispered, a smile tugging on her lips. "I don't...want to lose you again."

A flicker of pain briefed his eyes and he leaned down, careful to avoid her sore side, and buried his face into her neck. She was a little taken aback by the sudden action but she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck and keep him pressed against her; her starved heart yearning for any shred of affection she could get her hands on.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her ear, digging his fingers into her soft hair. "You weren't supposed to get hurt...damn it, nothing was suppose to _happen_ to you..."

She closed her eyes, tightening her hold around his neck. "You can't protect me from everything," she murmured into his hair, sighing in contentedness despite the terrible pain that burned in her side. "Besides, it could've been worse – he could've broken a bone if he wanted to, you know!"

Ed's cheek brushed against hers, the short, thick, bristles that lined his jaw scraping against her soft skin. His eyes were aflame with a dark emotion again, something that made her squirm uncomfortably even though he wasn't even looking at her but at the white sheets she was laying on.

"He won't get away with it," he hissed, words slathered with loath. "I'll make him pay for hurting you. Just you wait, I'll—!"

"Stop it," Winry chided. She grabbed his chin and made him stare at her, into her, to his surprise, stern eyes. "Don't talk like that or else I'll have to take some extreme measures! Ed, don't do anything you'll regret...don't stoop as low as him, okay?" she added, using a different tactic when she saw the rebut at the tip of his tongue. "I just want to get out of here alive with Eddie and go back home...I just want to get out – don't complicate things just because you're a short-fuse."

He frowned. "Am not," he muttered.

The anger in his eyes had cooled, replaced with a weary but accepting glint that made the knot that had slowly been tightening in her stomach unwind. "Are to," she giggled. "You've got the shortest temper I've ever seen...but you're not so short anymore, huh?" she sighed, almost forlornly. "I'll miss the times when I'd call you a shrimp and you'd have a fit and go on and on insulting yourself..."

"Oh, jeez, Win, that makes me feel _great_," Ed shot back, sarcastically. "Its good to know I entertained you with my mental breakdowns!"

"Pfft," she scoffed. "They were funny and you knew it!" She paused, remembering some of his infamous lines. "What'd you say to me once?_ 'Who're you callin' so short you'd need a magnifying glass to see him'?_" she mimicked him, quite badly at that, but the laughter in her eyes was enough for him to forgive her.

"I don't sound like that, for your information," he rolled his eyes. "And that's such an old line – my newer stuff is much better!"

"Oh, really?" she grinned. "They've still been calling you _short_?"

He scowled. Alright, he walked right into that one. "NO!" He upturned his chin. "I'm so tall they call me to reach the top shelf in the library!"

Winry rolled her eyes at the cheesy line. "Yeah, right, Al is totally taller than you by an inch!"

"Is not!"

"Is to!"

"Is _not_!" he scowled.

"Is _to_," she beamed, cerulean eyes glowing in the darkness of the night. The previous annoyance melted away the longer he stared into her eyes. She seemed to have felt the shift in moods, as her sparkling eyes switched to a more curious, more hesitant, glimmer.

His eyes flicked to her lips for a moment before flicking back to her eyes, the inner struggle clear on his face. The thing she loved about his eyes were their expressiveness. They could cause the toughest man to turn tail if they stared into the intense, molten-hot, eyes for too long and cause her knees to buckle and heart to stop if she gazed into the adorning, soft, butter gold for a mere moment.

Anticipation wound her up, the longer they kept their eyes locked, and before she knew it, she was leaning up and he was leaning in; gazes firm on each others as their lips touched briefly. It was a fleeting kiss, a mere touch, that soon extended into something else as her eyes fluttered closed and her arms brought him lower on her mouth; deepening the touch and rousing the desire she had laid dormant for so long.

Their need for one another made itself know in a single moment, when their mouths viciously clashed with one another. Teeth clacked, noses bumped, pain flared in her cheek and sides, but these small set-backs only encouraged them to further pursue their passion as Edward forced her mouth open and plunged his tongue inside.

The barb wire she had set out deliberately around the fronts of her heart seemed to be slowly cut away with every searing touch and needy move of their mouths. He shifted, body overshadowing hers, and his hand accidentally brushed up against her side; causing her to unintentionally gasp into his mouth, disrupting the steady build of heat between them.

"Sorry," he panted, unable to look at her in the eyes. Her eyes traced the red that sprinkled his cheeks and she felt a smile tug on her lips.

She could still make him blush like a thirteen year old? She felt smug pride well up in her chest as she let her fingers run down the stiff tresses of hair. "Why do you gel it back?" she grumbled. "It makes you look so stiff!"

"Its mandatory," Ed sighed, also not liking the slicked back hairstyle. "If you have long hair, you slick it back... its annoying, you know? Waking up every single day to smooth it back or get a good earful about it later."

"Well...you won't have to slick it back anymore once we're home," she said, happily. Her finger stopped by his forehead, poking the antennae that stuck out and curved. "You _still _have this thing sticking out of you like some freak?"

"Who you callin' a freak?" he growled.

"Ed!"

"I've _tried_!" he sighed frustratingly. "It doesn't wanna' go down...I've put so much gel on it already but it still sticks out. Ask any of my commanding officers – they'd tell you 'cause they've tried, too." He paused. "'Course, one of them wanted to chop it off but like hell am I going to let him get near me with a pair of scissors!"

"Chopping it off would make you look less ridiculous," she replied dryly.

"Ridiculous?" he spluttered, reaching up to gently pet his antennae. "It's not ridiculous..."

"I guess it's not," she thought out loud with a chuckle, moving a bit to properly flick the strand of hair. "It makes you look kinda cute."

A scowl appeared on his face. "Guys aren't cute! Girls are!"

"Get over it," she scoffed. "You're cute. Look at you, with your itsy-bisty widdle piece of hair stickin' out," she baby-talked, causing Edward to glare down at her.

"Shut up, I would tell _you_ the same thing only you don't have anything relatively badass on you...except those earrings, which _I_ bought!" he winked.

Winry laughed. "You're such a dork!"

His laugh faded along with her own and he reached into his front pocket to pull out the pocket watch he had bought when he visited the town a few miles away from the military base. He flicked it open, glancing at the number and cursing when he saw the time: three am.

"Al's gonna' kill me," he groaned. He reluctantly leaned off her, burning the image of her warm smile and glowing eyes into his mind before he fully got off of her. "It's really late – you should try to get some shut eye. Al and I'll drop by later with a first aid kit once we've got the plan settled down. For now, just sit still, okay?"

"What else can I do?" she retorted, grunting as she adjusted herself on the flimsy sheets. She heard Ed shift and next thing she knew, he was patting her head; just like old times. She looked up in surprise, face heating at the sight of his affectionate grin.

"Just get some sleep, Win," he chuckled, hand lingering before he walked to the door and exited. Her eyes didn't leave him until the door shut and the lock turned; ensuring her captivity.

Her fingers touched her lips for a second.

She missed him so much.

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"Alright, big brother, are you ready?' Al asked, three days later, as they began to pull on their clothes to greet another ice-cold day. The weather seemed to be at its breaking point; the snowstorm at its highest as the cold that made the air in the room stagnant roused goosebumps on their skin.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Alphonse," Ed replied, confidently. He laced his boots and stood. "You sure they're going to take her out tomorrow and _not_ today?" This last shred of information made him feel nervous, as his brother finished lacing up his own boots and followed in suit.

"Positive," Al nodded firmly. "I reread the plans twice to be sure and it says that they'll use her November twenty nine, which is tomorrow! They have no reason to speed it up but if something comes up, you have to promise me we'll get Eddie out first!"

Ed reluctantly nodded. "Deal..." The younger sibling could hear the conflict in his tone but he merely smiled in reassurance, as they both exited their rooms and headed toward the gymnasium, where they would congregate with the other soldiers for their morning work out before heading to their posts for the rest of the day.

As Edward began his early morning routine, he let his thoughts roam freely as per usual. The plan had been laid out over the past previous nights and they had gone through every possible worst-case scenario. If all should go as they had planned the _first_ time, then they should be on their way out by the end of the day.

Most of their escape relied on the emptiness of the halls and assurance that no one would notice their absence for at least 10 hours after their escape from the military facility to ensure that they had put enough distance between them so they could take it easy by the time they made it to the Fort, where, as Mustang had instructed, there would be people on the lookout for four people walking together: meaning them.

Edward couldn't waste anymore time than he had already: he had a time-limit that was drawing closer and closer with every moment he spent doing pointless exercise routines.

He finished his last set of push ups and hauled himself back to his feet, glancing at Alphonse, who had finished long before; face wiped blank just like he knew his was.

"Yo, you ready to kick some Amestrian butt?" a fellow soldier grinned to him. He was one of the soldiers Edward didn't mind speaking to as they got into a fighting stance for their twenty minute sparing session.

"I'm ready to kick _your_ ass," Ed smirked, motioning for him to strike with one finger.

The man grinned toothily. "Watch your mouth, Major, sir!" He lashed forward, Edward avoiding the punch with an easy slide to the right; countering with his own gut-wrenching kick that sent the man stumbling back.

"You never fool around, huh, Major?" the man wheezed. "You really gotta' loosen up once in a while, sir."

Ed never let his smirk drop. "Fooling around means leaving yourself open for attack, Sergeant," he straightened, awaiting his partners recovery. "It only takes one hit to end a life."

"Guess you're right," the sergeant sighed out, recovering. "Pardon me, but why you gotta' be so damn smart? Shouldn't you be out in some laboratory, earning hundreds of more bills than some expendable soldiers, sir?"

Edward chose his words out carefully. "I guess I just...wanted to change the way this military ran its things." He spoke the words while remembering Mustang, whose brow-raising ambition was one to be reckoned with.

"It'd be great," the sergeant said, attacking a few times and managing to avoid Edward's counterattacks more effectively than before now that his focus was back. "Don't wanna' sound traitorous or anything but you'd make a great President." He jabbed his fingers into his stomach, twisting them like a knife.

Edward didn't flinch, he merely grabbed his wrist and twisted it upward; kicking his foot out from under him and causing the man to wobble and fall on his back.

"President, huh?" Ed snorted derisively, rubbing his abdomen. "Goes to show how much you know me. That sounds like a job full of office work!"

The sergeant was about to say something when the whistle blew and they all automatically went back to their roll call order. Alphonse walked beside his brother, both of them standing straight as their superior officer casually walked down from the top stairs; where he had been overlooking their progress with a critical eye.

"Good, good," Colonel Tucker nodded, approvingly. "I like the progress I am seeing! Wonderful! You'll be ready to be sent out soon..." He stopped before Edward, his smirk proud, which, despite himself, caused a swell of pride to inflate. "You'll be going first, Zhao."

The swell of pride popped.

"First where, sir, if I may ask," he replied, loudly; respectfully, least he be punished.

"Why, to lead your own company of soldiers, Major," the Colonel chuckled, as if his question was ridiculous. Edward froze though it wouldn't make much of a difference – he already looked as if he had been captured in time. He had already mastered the art of standing as still as a statue. "They're _special_ soldiers, the best of the best we've got, and you're lucky enough to lead them, how'd'ya like that?"

He tried not to swallow. "Thank you, sir."

"Hahaha, you are too modest, Zhao!" Colonel Tucker smiled, as Edward ran a whole list of back plans in his head should he say what he feared he would... "You'll leave tonight at 800 hours sharp!"

_Shit. _"Yes, sir."

"Very well...you lot could scram! Go back to your posts!" he snapped harshly. The soldiers whom were all in a straight line shouted their acquiescence and marched in different directions; some to quickly shower and change and return to their designated spots and _others_, such as Ed and Al, to briskly walk off to their posts with something close to nausea making their stomach turn.

"Brother," Al's quivering voice cut through his racing thoughts. "What're we going to do now? This spoils our plan..."

"I know, Al," Ed muttered, as they both marched down the corridor. "But we're going to have to do _something_. Time's running out and we gotta' take Winry and Eddie out of her before its too late." He hated the time-limit Mustang had thrust over his head. Every clock they passed reminded him of the precious time he was wasting, dawdling, and he hated it.

"Wait, Ed, I have an idea!" Alphonse spoke up suddenly, grabbing his arm to stop his anxious brother. "But you're going to have to _promise_ me that you won't back down!"

"What did you have in mind?"

"_Promise _me first."

"Alphonse."

"Please, Ed, we don't have time to argue!" Al pleaded.

"Fine. I promise." He crossed his arms. "Now what is it?"

"I'll do it," Al insisted. "Instead of taking you with me, I'll just extract Winry and Eddie from their cells and make a run for it! With alchemy, it should be a cinch to do!"

"What about _me_? What do _I_ do?" Ed hissed, glancing around cautiously for any eavesdroppers.

"I was getting there!" Al rolled his eyes at his impatience. "You come after us."

"..._What_? Are you insane!"

"Look, think about it this way: I was an Amestrian spy sent into the ranks to try to uncover information, which is technically true," Al began, seriously. "I heard about Winry's capture and I decided to risk it and get her out of there because, since the Full Metal Alchemist is an Amestrian soldier, it would be like helping out my comrade," Al explained. "Around an hour or two after this, you burst into Colonel Tucker's study and tell them that Winry and Eddie are missing and that you suspect its me who busted them out – you can make up some colorful story on how you discovered that and swear you won't let me get away with it and go after me!" Al ended, rather dramatically.

Edward, meanwhile, stared blankly at his brother. "...And you _really_ expect them to buy that crap?"

"Yep!"

Ed sighed heavily, mulling over the plan in his head. "It would work if Winry wasn't hurt..."

"Hurt?" Al repeated, in alarm. "Winry's hurt? Brother, you never told me that! Is she okay? How badly injured is she? _How _did she get hurt in the first place?"

"Isaac got to her," Ed seethed, running a hand down his face to calm the spark of rage. "It's nothing too serious; a few bruised ribs and a swollen cheek. Its the ribs I'm worried about, though."

"Oh, no," Al creased his brows, a sick anxiety making him want to hurl. "That complicates things..."

"We have to do _something_, though," Ed stressed, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "And quick."

"We can still follow through with the plan," Al suggested, although he looked rather reluctant now. "I can use my alchemy to help us along if she can't go on any more. Today is the last day, brother, we can't spend it trying to accommodate Winry just because of a few bruised ribs...it's suffering through some mild discomfort or losing her life altogether and I prefer the former of the two!"

Edward gave his brother an even stare. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother to deliver the love of his life to the severe but reliable soldiers of Briggs...it was the fact that he would have to pretend to be the bad guy and go after them, most likely engaging in a faux-battle with his younger sibling to make it real since he would most likely have back-up following close behind.

He was not suppose to know alchemy, too, which, meant that he would have to somehow hold his own against his brother; of whom he still had to beat in a fair _fist-fighting_ match – much less an alchemy spar!

It would shred the trust he had formed between Eddie, too, who would no doubt be watching the battle no matter how much his mother shielded his eyes. It made him feel awful inside; not to mention the thought of his one and only son hating him brought back bitter feelings regarding his own bastard father.

That was probably the most prominent reason why he was reluctant to go through with the plan his brother had ingeniously created on the spot, something, Ed suspected, he had forethought; given the mostly solid plan he had stated...

_I'd rather risk Eddie hating me, _Ed thought as he nodded and began to add a few minor details to perfect the strong escape plan, _than lose him completely. I wouldn't be able to bear it if something happened to him because of my selfishness. _

"You ready, Major?" Al asked, wearily.

"I guess I'll see you in two hours," Ed smirked back, wryly. "Try not to beat me up _too_ bad, Alphonse."

"I'm not making any promises!" Al tossed over his shoulder, stealthily leaving his side and thus leaving his older sibling standing in the middle of the empty hall. His eyes landed on the roman numerals of his pocket watch, which he had taken out to check the time.

In less than ten minutes, Alphonse would take Eddie from his room.

In less than twenty, he would have gone to Winry's room and quickly recite the plan.

In an hour they would escape with Alphonse creating a minor explosion within the wall of her cell; which would give way to the open, icy, tundra which was Drachma, where they would trudge along the cold landscape to reach the border between Briggs and Drachma...

A half hour after they leave, he would enter their room and be 'shocked' to find it empty with a gaping hole in the wall.

He would report to Colonel Tucker.

He would, no doubt, scream at him for his foolishness even though he really had nothing to do with it as Al was an alchemists and locks and walls were useless against one. But Tucker would ultimately give him access to a few soldiers, who would scout along with him out in the mountainous region of the planet, where he would 'surprisingly' find Alphonse; Winry and Eddie having already gone off farther ahead to avoid witnessing the bloody battle, if they could. He hoped they could.

So, as he currently stood before his commanding officer Colonel Tucker, who was, as he predicted, yelling his brains out at Ed, who took it like a soldier and ignored the spit that got on his face as a result, he was more focused on Winry and Eddie's safety than the soldiers who lined up behind him as he prepared his own squad a few minutes after the one-sided yelling-match.

That is, until another voice interrupted his monotonous demands.

"There are too many," Isaac advised from behind him. "Reduce the number by five. We only need three with us. Pick out the best and take them with us."

"'Us', sir?" Ed asked, cursing his own rotten luck. What the hell was Isaac doing here? How did he even find out?

_Well, there IS a hole in the wall, _he muttered inwardly, shaking off the thought as the older man spoke.

Isaac glanced at him, with a sly smirk. "Why, yes, Major, _us_. I have gained permission from Colonel Tucker and I shall be accompanying you in the retrieval of Miss Rockbell." The older man barked out a few orders, shooing away the soldiers he knew would be useless during the retrieval mission. "Besides, it's been a while since I've had any type of worthy excitement."

"Be careful, _sir_," Ed replied, rather smartly. "You don't know when that recklessness might come back and bit you in the ass."

Isaac chuckled, black eyes trained on his own. "You're right. But I am quite capable of capturing a snooty little girl, _Major_."

His eyes flashed dangerously. He didn't say anything.

"I'll also be in charge of the assignment, if you don't mind, Major," Isaac informed dismissively, stepping forward and overlooking the horrified look Ed gave at him. "It's not that I don't trust your leadership skills...I simply don't want that Amestrian slag to get away from us because of one honest mistake. You understand that, don't you, Zhao?"

"Ooh, do I, sir..." Ed grit out, trying to keep his anger at bay so as to not jeopardize his own mission. He turned to the remaining three soldiers. "Head out! Follow us, do not shoot unless ordered to, and, for the record, _stay out of the way,_" he hissed through clenched teeth, swiveling away from them and heading toward the door that would lead them outside; to the white slate of snow which the last three people he loved dearly would have to brave through...

.

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"Mommy, it's cold," Eddie mumbled into her chest, as she hugged him tighter to her body and continued to trudge through the thick white sludge. Alphonse was a couple of steps ahead, blocking most of the harsh winds as they marched their way to Fort Briggs; just a few miles off the border that would then land them in official Amestris territory.

It had been hours since their escape.

She just hoped there were enough camouflage soldiers by the border to meet them. She looked over her shoulder nervously. All she saw was white but it didn't help the coil of dread in her stomach.

"I know its cold," Winry whispered, voice chattering as she paused to tuck the thick wool blanket Al had been kind enough to hand her before they left tighter around his body. "But it'll all be over soon, okay?"

Her side was hurting terribly. With the pain came a short of breath that made it almost impossible to continue on. Her cheeks were flushed, forehead shining with sweat that quickly became frost the more they walked; time running out like sand falling through her fingers.

She couldn't stop now, though.

She needed to keep going.

If not for her life, then for her son's.

"Are you holding up well, Win?" Al asked, over the howling winds that had begun to pick up once more. He uneasily gazed to the sky, to the clouds that thundered close-by and promised a white torrent of snow to hold them back if they did not hurry to safety.

"Yeah!" she assured, picking up her pace slightly. "Don't worry about me! I'll be right behind you!"

"There looks like a blizzard is going to come our way!" Al shouted, voice tinged with anxiety. "Once it hits, we're going to have to stop and I'll make us a shelter using alchemy, okay? If the snow becomes too thick for you to see and you lose sight of me, _stop and don't move_," Al warned, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll find you."

Winry nodded. "Got it!"

They continued walking for what seemed to be hours when in reality it was only a few dozen minutes. But it was enough to wind her up in heart-weighing apprehension. When Alphonse had told her what role Edward would play in their escape plan, she had been less than thrilled.

She knew he would never hurt her but it still made her sick to think that Eddie would probably have to witness his father fighting his uncle, even if the little boy didn't know Edward as his father yet. She thought it was a better idea to simply let him believe Ed was a random soldier; she knew if Eddie discovered Edward was his father, it would be hard to get him to detach from the older man.

Actually, it had been hard enough to get him from saying 'goodbye to the cool soldier-man', as he had stated.

"How much longer?" Winry asked.

"We're almost there!" Al answered, with a smile. "I can see the border from right here! Once we cross that, then we're safe!"

"Ok—!"

A shot echoed through the ice-thick air.

Winry screamed, ducking as more shots flew through the air.

"Winry!" Al gasped in alarm, stopping and sliding right in front of her without a second thought. "Are you okay? Did you get hit?"

"N-no, it just startled me," she stammered, wincing when another shot rang through the howling winds.

"What is brother _thinking_?" Al hissed to himself, his eyes scouting out the white abyss behind Winry for any signs to where the bullets had originated from. "They're not supposed to shoot! They might hit you or Eddie! What the heck is going on?"

More shots rang.

Al pushed Winry behind him.

"What's going on, Al?" Winry asked, quiveringly. "I swear, if this is another one of those secret moves you two agreed to not tell me—!"

"It's not!" Al insisted, flashing anxious rusted gold eyes to her. "I told you the entire plan without any shortcuts! I honestly have no idea what's going on!"

A few consecutive shots tore through the air and Alphonse rose up a solid ice barrier before grabbing Winry by the arm and hauling her up to her feet. Eddie was softly sobbing in her chest, making Al only work harder to bring them both to the safety he had promised his brother he would get them to.

"Hurry! They have to be close if their shots are so clear!" Al stressed out. They all nearly ran through the thick ditches of snow. Winry gripped Eddie tighter, fear beginning to well up inside of her when she heard nothing else but the usual rustling of their clothes and heavy breathing.

She could feel them, however, drawing closer and closer with each misstep they took...

Suddenly, she heard the crunch of rapid footsteps come from behind her and she yelled, rather hysterically: "_They're here!_!"

"Damn it!" Alphonse clapped his hands, transmuting the snow into sharp icicles that prevented further advancement on the soldiers part, who noticed this instantly and raised their guns; aiming them at him directly and shooting without a single amount of hesitation.

"Whoa!" He managed to dodge one bullet but another skimmed his arm. The blistering pain was ignored by the younger Elric, who firmly put himself between the bullets and the two people behind him. Winry picked herself up and shakily backed away from the three soldiers who were just mere paces away; their guns out and ready.

"Go, Winry!" Al commanded. "I'll take care of these three!"

"But, Al—!"

"Just keep going straight like I told you to!" Al shouted. "If the blizzard hits, you know what to do, right?"

"Y-yes, but, Alphonse—!"

"GO!"

Winry hesitated before, with a heavy heart, turning away and rushing into the expanding white. She could hear more explosions as he preformed alchemy in order to keep her safe and she didn't stop, not even when she heard Edward's shouts and orders or another voice, another familiar voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, harshly shout her name.

_The sky got darker, _she noticed, when she looked at the rumbling clouds. _The blizzard is going to hit any time now! I have to hurry! _She gripped Eddie tighter in her arms, ignoring his wailing as he shook in her arms, and tried to increase her pace as the sounds grew a little distant.

However, she was wrong.

She felt a bullet graze her side and she released a piercing shriek, her foot catching in a ditch and making her fall forward; her son's cries almost painful to listen to as she gasped and clutched a hand to her side, to the profuse bleeding that was burning as the ice hit it dead on.

"Stop right there, you whore!" a voice spat.

A cry tore her throat and she refused to give in, clawing forward and trying to get back on her feet in order to escape that man's clutches. But she couldn't do it, no matter how hard she tried, as tears of frustration trickled down her frozen cheeks.

In a last-minute attempt to save her son, she pushed him out from under her and shoved him forward with her hands.

Eddie crawled ahead in the ice, standing up and watching red start to color the snow around his mothers side as she laid feebly in the ditch of snow.

"Go!" she cried, hoarsely. "Please, Ed, go and hide! Go hide behind the trees! Wait for Alphonse! GO!"

"Mom—!"

"_GO!_" she screamed, watching her son hesitate only once before scrambling forward and without her; to the towering trees that stretched for miles before her and would offer sufficient cover for the person she possibly adored more than Edward himself.

_He's safe, _she thought, some of the tension in her shoulders relaxing. _At least they can't get to him. _The little boys backside disappeared behind a thick tree. _Please, Alphonse, where are you?_

She dug her fingers into the rough frost and pulled herself forward, gasping when another spasm of pain blossomed in her side.

"Shit," she strained. "How deep is it...?" Her trembling fingers touched the wound, a strangled grunt escaping her lips when she felt the rather deep slice.

"Got you," an infuriated voice breathed from behind her.

Winry felt a terrible cold chill leak down her spine. "Damn it!" she croaked, through clenched teeth; hand striking out in front of her and coloring that batch of snow pink as she tried to pull herself forward. "Stand up, Winry! Stand up..." she shut her eyes, forcing herself out of the deep ditch only to be grabbed by the hair and harshly pulled up.

"Did you really think you could escape?" Isaac's cold voice lashed from behind her. "Did you really think I'd let you go so easily?"

"Let me go, you bastard!" she snarled, struggling out of his grasp despite the enormous amount of pain that was shooting throughout her body; that was starting to numb her the more she moved.

But she couldn't stop.

She needed to keep trying.

If there was even an inkling of possibility for escape, she _couldn't_ stop.

She had promised Alphonse, whom she could hear cry out for her as Isaac kept her pinned to him with his strapping arm.

"Not fucking likely," he hissed into her ear. "Oh, no, I've got special things planned out for you."

"NO!" she screamed, trying to hit him with her hand but he kept her still and facing away from him with a wrench of her hair. "_EDWARD!_" she shrieked, swearing the cry of his name had echoed throughout the entire mountainside of Drachma and Briggs alike.

"Your precious Edward won't be coming to save you, bitch."

That was the last thing she heard before he choked her with his arm and her eyes rolled to the back her head.


	6. Price

**Wanderlust  
_by_**_. Poisoned Scarlet_

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**Chapter 6: **Price

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"Don't shoot!" Ed shouted over his shoulder, narrowly avoiding a skull-crushing kick from his younger sibling, who was nervously darting his eyes to the right, where he knew he last saw Winry. "I said, _don't shoot_!"

"But, sir!" a soldier protested, unsure of who to obey.

"What the hell did I tell you?" Ed snarled, hissing when he managed to block his brothers powerful punch. "_Don't get in the way!_" he yelled, tearing his gaze from the indecisive soldiers behind him and focusing on his brother, who eased off him and sank into a defensive stance.

"What're you waiting for?" Ed taunted. "Come at me!"

Alphonse, despite the strained situation, covertly smile and lunged forward, the two brothers falling into a dangerous dance; one which the soldiers watched with hidden awe. Their guns weighed heavily in their hands, feeling rather useless as their true commanding officer had slipped away somewhere during the brother's battle without a single word.

"Where's Isaac?" Al hissed, when they drew close to one another.

"Behind me!" Ed hissed back, blocking a punch.

"No, he's not!" Al stated, dodging a kick.

"What—!" Edward leaped and gripped his brothers shoulder, springing off and landing behind him as smooth as a cat. His eyes flashed to the three soldiers standing, watching their brawl, and he felt his stomach sink when he noticed his commanding officer was not there...

"He's not there!" Ed shouted frantically to Alphonse, who rolled his eyes.

"No duh!" Al retreated, circling his brother as the other man did the same. Their eyes locked, conveying a message that made both brothers feel ill at the thought.

"Do you think?" Ed mouthed.

Al looked queasy.

"_EDWARD!"_

Edward froze.

His blood ran cold, all rational thought leaking from his racing mind at the sound of _her_ desperate shriek. He felt a terror like no other clutch his heart, freeze him as his brother's equally stricken eyes once again locked with his own.

_Winry! _He made a move to follow her voice, her frightened voice, but his brother landed in front of him and held him back with an otherwise nose-breaking punch. "What're you doing?" Ed shouted, shoving the younger man away. "It's Winry! She's in trouble—!"

"You're not supposed to care, remember!" Al reminded, tone pained. "We have to follow the plan—!"

"No, screw the plan! She's in _danger_!" Ed snarled back, trying to break past his brother, who determinedly fended him off from rushing after the girl like the brash fool he was at times. "She could _die_, you moron! Let me go - !"

"You can't! You'll put her in even _more_ danger if you blow your cover!" Al hissed, fingers digging into his shoulder as Edward struggled against him.

"Eddie is with her!" Ed pleaded, voice edging in hysteria. "I know Isaac – he'll _kill _him if he gets in the way! I don't fucking _care_ how much he says he'll never hurt a child, he's ruthless and you know it Alphonse!"

"I know it hurts, brother, but you _can't_," Al insisted, tone decidedly firm.

Ed shook in place, unable to sort out where his priorities laid. For a second, for just one second, he contemplated shoving his brother off to the side and dropping all pretenses. He would find her, save her, and they would all flee to safety.

But that was too easy.

_It wouldn't work, anyway,_ Ed thought darkly. The plan had too many holes in it for him to feel comfortable executing.

"...Hit me."

"Wh-what?"

"Hit me, Al," Ed looked up sharply, gold eyes burning. "Hit me as hard as you can. Disable me for a few hours."

"What're you saying?" Al gaped, shocked his brother could even think so. "Ed! That's crazy!"

"If you hit me hard enough to make me spit blood," Ed continued lowly, voice dangerous, "I can't go after you. You can save Winry." Al heard the reluctance, the remorse, in the words. "Do it."

"But—!"

"DO IT!" Ed roared, roughly grabbing him by the shirt and lifting him off a few inches off the ground, readying to throw him as far away as possible and pound the living out of him if he did not listen to him when Al grabbed his wrist tightly, yanking his arm up and, without giving him room to even inhale a breath, twisting him around and snapping the bone right out of its socket.

Ed felt an excruciating pain shoot down his arm, a choking cry lodging in his throat as his brother shoved him forward into the snow; his arm continuing to surge bouts of mind-blowing pain throughout his body.

"I'm sorry!" he vaguely heard Al whimper.

_Damn it._

"Go," Ed croaked, shutting his eyes against the pain in his arm. "Hurry!" He dug numb fingers into the snow in an effort to forget the pain.

He heard Alphonse leave and he heard the three soldiers who had witnessed their spat call out to him in alarm. He felt someone lift him up, resisting a whine when his arm moved the wrong way and caused pain to explode behind the lids of his eyes.

"Don't touch me," Ed strained, struggling out of their grasp. They let him go and Edward slowly lifted himself up with his good left hand, getting on his knees so he could kneel. He tossed his head back, eyes still screwed shut, but he managed to push the pain back enough to look at his small squad, all, of which, were gazing apprehensively at him. "I'm fine. Where the hell is Isaac?"

"He went after the Rockbell girl, sir," the second soldier replied.

Even though he already knew that, he wanted them to say something else. He wanted them to say he had been in the shadows all along; watching him fall with dissatisfied eyes. But he hadn't even been there to see him fall. Instead, he was chasing after Winry – capturing her and no doubt doing unthinkable things that made him see red at the fringe of his vision just thinking about it.

"Let's go," Ed grunted out.

"But, sir, you're injured! You shouldn't force—!"

"Don't question me!" Ed snapped, getting on his feet. His right arm felt nonexistent; pulsing and cramping the more he moved. But the pain was nothing compared to automail installation. The pain did not even _register_ on the same scale as when he had been impaled by that beam, crippled by the iron that shot through his back and tore organs. It was nothing compared to taking that thick piece of steel out of him, having to preform the difficult art of alchemy when his head was swimming with delirium from the sheer amount of agony.

This was nothing.

That was what kept him going.

"Follow me and shoot when I say so!" Ed grit out, trudging through the snow and to the direction he heard his brother go down. He faintly heard the sounds of gunshots and snow exploding up ahead and he hoped to whatever higher being was out there that he managed to bring Isaac down and save Winry in time.

_She's okay, _he convinced himself. _She's okay. She and Eddie are fine. _There was more gunshots, shouts becoming clearer and clearer with each marching step. _She's fine, damn it, she has to be! _He hurried forward, left hand holding his limp right to the side as the soldiers behind him rose their guns and prepared to shoot at the sound of their commanding officers voice.

"SHUT UP!" Isaac bellowed, throwing Winry to the arctic floor. His eyes fumingly searched the area for any signs of the traitor. A rage like no other was boiling up inside of him, as his eyes caught the forming shadows of his team making their way toward him. "Major!" Isaac hissed. "What the _hell_ is the meaning of this?"

He didn't answer for a moment.

Isaac saw his eyes were glued on Winry, who was staring back with something close to relief. "Zhao!" Isaac snapped again.

"...I don't know, sir," he replied, voice barely carrying over the picked-up winds. "Is she...where is Eddie?"

"Who?" Isaac asked, voice sneering. "You mean her son? I could care less about that little bastard! What I want to know is where the hell _Sho_ went!"

He meant his brother.

Ed wondered about that, too, for a moment. "Where's the child?" he asked again, voice louder. "Lieutenant Colonel, where's Eddie?"

"I told you once: _I don't know!_" Isaac growled back, his words icy. "I don't know and I don't _care_! What I care about is how the _fuck _you could have let that traitor escape!" His eyes zeroed in on his limp right arm and he spat: "Weak. You're all nothing but _weaklings_! What is that, a simple dislocation? You were trained to overcome such weaknesses!" Isaac roared, swiveling back to Winry and stalking forward, grabbing her roughly by the hair and lifting her up; dragging her toward the soldiers who awaited farther ahead. "We drilled it into your puny heads: ninety percent mind, _one _percent body!"

"Sir—!" a soldier began, weakly.

"Shut the fuck up before I blow your fucking head off!" Isaac exploded, shutting the solider up and making him take a step back from his infuriated commander.

The Major was silent throughout this.

"You're all getting it when we get back!" Isaac snarled. "You're all fucking getting it when we get back, you goddamn, useless, son of a bitch—NGH!" Isaac gasped, his clawed hold on Winry's hair clamping open when the floor beneath him suddenly caved.

Winry screamed, her hand lashing out to grab onto the thick blocks of ice around her. Her fingers dug into the frost, as Isaac's hand wrapped around her ankle. Her eyes were wide, frightened, and she could hear screams of alarm come from somewhere around her as she tried to claw her other hand into the ice; feeling her fingers numb to the point of pain and begin to slip with every second.

She heard a faint clap.

The ground beneath her rose, leveling her, and she kicked her feet desperately in response; managing to hit Isaac in the chin and make his grasp around her ankle loosen enough for her to slip away from him without further harm. She crawled out, her heart stuck in her throat and her muscles stricken by fear at the near-fall.

"Wh-what is this?" she heard Isaac strain from behind her. "Zhao...how can you...preform alchemy?"

Winry shakily looked over her shoulder, to the man holding onto the ledge of slick ice for dear life. Her eyes lowered, to the seemingly endless tunnel he was dangling over precariously. Her eyes flashed to Edward, who's face she could not see as the arctic winds blew his black-dyed bangs over his eyes.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," Ed revealed, voice edging on a murmur before it grew louder and louder. "I had to put up with your bullshit for nearly _four_ _years_...I had to put up with all your shit for _four_ fucking _years_ when I could've been at home raising my _son_!"

Winry felt her heart stop.

All breath left her lungs, leaving them contracted and stiff as he continued his speech; each word building up the tension-laden air.

_N...no._

"This assignment was a pain in the ass from the beginning. I should have _never_ taken in the first place, now that I think about. It wasn't worth it."

_He...he can't be—he wouldn't—!_

"I'm grateful it's finally going to end today," he stretched on an unamused smirk. "I'm going to throw you into a world of pain, Wolcott, for hurting my girlfriend, my brother, and my son."

_No...Ed! _She cried in her mind, mouth open but unable to voice the shout.

"Girlfriend...brother...son..." Isaac repeated, voice so low she wouldn't have heard it if the wind hadn't calmed in that very instant. She faintly heard the rumbling clouds overhead stir. "Do you mean to say..._Major Zhao_...that you fooled us this entire time?"

"Pretty good, wouldn't you say? For a useless son of a bitch, I mean," Ed replied smartly, removing his left arm from his right and standing straight; the once-blinding pain in his right arm ignorable as the three soldiers who stood beside him looked at each other in confusion and alarm.

Instead of the roar of rage she expected, Isaac threw his head back and laughed. The laugh was boisterous and amused, something which made her nervous and, from what she could see, made Ed's face only draw in more severe than before.

"I always knew you were too special!" Isaac laughed out. Her eyes trailed to his fingers, which were still firmly hooked on the ledge. "You followed orders as if you had done it since you were born...you were too smart for a normal soldier; you questioned too much but you always obeyed in the end...you never befriended anyone...you flew right through boot camp like nothing... I should have known from the very beginning," Isaac's voice dropped, edging dangerous as his black eyes seared into Ed's. "You certainly live up to your name, Full Metal."

Edward grinned cockily.

Bingo.

"Glad I didn't disappoint, Isaac, I just wouldn't be able to _stand_ it." He walked forward, the extra soldiers silent as they watched him step up close to the ledge; stare down coldly at Isaac, who stared back with equal loathe. "Do you regret treating me like some second-rate soldier now?"

"No, actually, I don't," Isaac smirked, causing Ed to narrow his eyes a fraction. "You will always be a second-rate soldier. A first-rate would have figured out why I haven't fallen into this trench yet..."

Suddenly, Ed's eyes widened and before he could even say anything, an explosion of light blinded Winry. Her ears seemed to just pop from the sound of it, as she was flung away into the pitch of cold slush behind her; slamming into a hill of snow with her head spinning.

"E-ED!" she called with a wince, on her knees now. There was a cloud of white that obstructed her vision. Her eyes desperately searched for Edward, who was no where to be seen no matter where she looked. Then, a sizzle of alchemical energy flashed behind the cloud of white; inducing another ear-splitting explosion followed by battle cries and screams as she faintly saw two figures clash repeatedly through the dust-cloud of snow.

"EDWARD!" she gasped, when Edward came rolling out of the white cloud. He picked himself up quickly, dodging a blow from Isaac, who, she saw, clenched his hands and spread them over his head in concentration; alchemical energy crackling between the fingers as another white light blinded her with its brilliance.

The loud noise would have been deafening had it been aimed at her, she realized belatedly.

"You think you could get away from me, Full Metal Alchemist?" she heard Isaac taunt, as the clouds overhead thundered along with his voice. "_No one_ has ever managed to get away from me, the Shock Front Alchemist! Neither will _you, _you little brat!"

"We'll just see about that!" she heard Ed reply, before the two engaged in battle once more; blood spraying as a rumble sounded from ahead. She could hear more explosions, the sound itself enough to make her ears bleed if she did not cover them properly, and she briefly feared Edward's safety the longer they dwelled within that dreadful shroud of white.

Winry got to her feet and backed away when she saw spikes shoot out from the ground two by two, one of the sharp edges nicking Isaac on the rib. Her own hand was pressed tightly against her skim, which had been steadily building in its burning-sensation since their fight had started. She took another few missteps back, colliding with a thick tree and resting heavily against it as her eyes tried to keep up with the lightening-fast movements of both men.

_What are they doing? Who's winning? _She asked herself, trying to discern Ed from the powder of white.

They were tossing things back and forth to one another; words she could not catch over the explosions and ear-splitting noises and crushing ice. Suddenly, Edward came back into view again; eyes trained on her own as he sprinted towards her.

"What—!"

"GO!" Edward grabbed her by the arm, dragging her behind him and he continued to run. She hissed, her side blossoming in acidic pain, but she sucked it up in order to follow Ed. Her steps were more messy than his, muscles burning the farther they ran through the white forest wonderland.

"Where are we going? What about Isaac?" she cried out.

"Forget about him!" Ed shouted back. "We're getting the hell outta' here!"

"Ed!" she snapped. "What happened?"

"I can't beat him!" Ed admitted sheepishly. "My right arms busted up so I can't kick his ass! Don't worry, I'll get him back on a later date!" he promised.

"What—but—_ugh_!" Winry cried out in frustration. "I don't care about that! What about us? There's a blizzard on its way, you know!"

Bewildered, Ed squawked: "There is?"

"YES!" she snapped. "Haven't you noticed the sky?"

"Oh, I thought it was just going to rain..."

"Since when does it _rain _in _Drachma_?" Winry shot back, sarcastically.

"Hey! It rained – once."

"_Once_!"

"Look, lets just shut up and keeping running!" Ed shook the argument off, increasing his pace when he faintly heard shouts from behind. He noticed her lag and pulled her forward, making her trip and crash into his back. "Oh, shit—!"

"Ouch!"

"What the hell?" Ed picked himself up, holding his flesh kneecap as it took most of the fall. "Win—are you _hurt_?" Edward forgot about the pulsing pain in his knee to tend to Winry, who had her eyes shut tightly and was gripping her side.

Her breaths were short, shallow, and his stomach plummeted to his ankles when he saw the blood seeping through her fingers and dripping into the slushy ice; coloring it a faint pink.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Ed whispered frantically, his own hand covering hers. The blood was warm, which strung him up even more as the wound had no doubt torn open more with the erratic running. "I wouldn't have made you run if I knew!"

"How _could_ I have told you?" Winry snapped through clenched teeth. "You dragged me off like some lunatic before I even got the chance!"

Edward looked at her for a moment before grabbing her and, without any heeds to her alarmed questions, scooped her up into his arms. He resisted a hiss, when his right arm gave out knee-buckling jolts of pain, and continued through the thick snow with Winry in his arms,who stared worriedly at his perspiring face; the usually healthy glow reducing to ash white the more he forced himself forward.

"Ed, you're hurt! You shouldn't be—!"

"Where's Eddie?" he asked instead, anxiety clouding his words.

"Eddie...?" she whispered back, an odd note in her words. "Alphonse has him."

"Why did Alphonse leave you behind?"

"It wasn't his fault! I told him to!" she defended him, as the winds picked up again. This time she noticed it had gotten colder. It wasn't long before the trees she saw from behind Ed began to grow misty and soon disappear altogether with the blow of ice that coated the air. "He wanted to come back for me but I...said he should just leave me behind and save Eddie instead."

Ed cursed under his breath, controlling the spiral of emotions within him. "_Why_ would you even tell him that!" he thundered, flashing molten eyes to her own. "Are you stupid or something? He could have saved the _both_ of you! I wouldn't be in such a huge mess right now if you had just gone—!"

"There wasn't any time!" Winry cut him short. "It was either me or Eddie! He had to choose one or the other and _I_ made the decision for him!" Her voice became heavy, pained. "You have to understand, Ed, I would never let anything happen to him...if this is the price I pay for my sacrifice then—then it's better than having to witness my son d...die..."

"You're such a dumbass," Ed breathed, making her eyes fall in shame. "You're such a dumbass but I get it," he sighed deeply. "I would've tried to _at least _escape, though," he grumbled, earning a roll of her eyes.

She couldn't really see him anymore.

The chalky white became the only thing she could make out.

Edward's face was starting to haze out; like watercolors left out in the rain as the winds became stronger, roused up more snow and clotted the air with its frosty, deathly, touch. The tip of her nose froze and she felt the sweat that had broken out on her face solidify with every guttering breath of air that hit her face.

"The blizzard's here..." she whispered, tremulously. Her fingers gripped the front of his military coat, the fluff of fur around the hem of the hood tickling her cheek. She reached behind him and, ignoring his puzzled look, pulled the hood over his head; thinking that if one of them had to stay warm, let it at least be the man who was sacrificing his right arm to carry her to safety.

"Yeah," he replied, softly. "We better stop soon."

He didn't stop, however, even when he could see nothing in front of him and the winds were beginning to wear him down layer by layer; the winds death-plunging shove sinking him deeper and deeper into the piling snow.

Eventually, all she could feel was the ice that was trying to break through her skin.

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..

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Alphonse stopped for a moment, his lungs begging for air. Both of his sides were stitched up from his rigorous marching through the snow and he honestly felt as if he could not go on for much longer. The blizzard hadn't managed to hit him yet although he had a feeling that if he continued on with his steady pace he would be able to bypass it altogether.

However, he didn't _want_ to continue on.

His stomach was in knots, excruciating when thoughts of Winry or his dear brother not making it back rushed through his head. The thought of _both _of them not making it back merely added fuel to the flames which were his anxiety. But he trusted his brother to pull through in the end like he always did when things were rough and seemed inescapable.

Eddie had fallen asleep during his trudging. He could feel the heat waft to him with every step, his small body wrapped between the wool blanket, while his own suffered the biting cold that wrapped around his own hunched body; making his joints lock up and his toes and fingers blister with the unholy temperature.

He was going deliberately slow despite the nervous twinges that afflicted his body, as if his dragging steps would somehow allow the two most important people in his life to catch up to him.

But he knew it was pointless since he had literally ran the first mile or so.

He had crossed the border just recently and he was now following around the edge of a mountain, to the fork he would approach with due time; which would lead him to Fort Briggs by nightfall if all went well and if the weather didn't abruptly change like the north was so notorious for.

_I have to keep going, _he thought, sucking in sharp breaths. _I can't stop...Winry will be safe – she's with Ed. He'd never let anything happen to her... _But he was honestly more worried about how they would hold out through the blizzard he was sure they had been engulfed in. He had full confidence his brother had managed to give Isaac the slip, given he had twisted up his arm pretty mean.

He wasn't as stupid as to fight seriously with a badly injured arm.

At least, Al hoped so.

"Mr Al?" a small voice said from below him.

"Oh! Eddie! You're awake," he smiled down at the little boy, who poked his head out of the flaps of thick wool to stare up at him. The little boys eyes widened, staring at his clearer rusted gold eyes and his very light gold colored hair.

"Mr Al! Mr Al!...what happened to your _hair_?" he asked, in awe.

"My...? Oh." He blew a strand of blond hair from his face. He remembered that, during his scuffle with his brother, he had alchemized his hair back to normal. He had screwed around with the dye molecules in his hair, letting the strands revert to their normal light gold shade although he had the sneaking suspicion he had lightened his hair _too_ _much_. "I just...took off my wig?"

"Wig?" he tested the word out, curiously.

"Yeah, its a hairpiece."

"You have other _hair_?" Eddie asked, not really getting what he was saying but in awe none the less. "How's that work? It sounds cool!"

"I just...put on my black hair when I want to! It's really that easy!" Al lied with a nervous laugh, deciding that keeping the boy in the dark about his alchemy would be better than scaring him into tears and hence make him beg for his mother and father, who _still _had to catch up to him...

"I want one, too!" he declared. "Mommy'll get it for me!" he added, confidently.

"Spoiled, aren't you?" Al laughed softly, shuddering when a rather icy chill blew into his face. "When your dad finally comes home, you're going to be even _more_ spoiled!" He couldn't really see it happening but it was a funny thought all the same: Edward flashing out his wallet and shoving a picture of Eddie into a random person's face proudly if they ever _dared_ to ask if he had children.

He wondered if Edward would become similar to Hugh's in another aspect, though: gushing about his child and proudly ranting about all the small details to people who most likely didn't really care.

He doubted it.

He had more trust _he'd _become something similar to Hugh's – only not with his own son, if he ever managed to get around to _doing _that, but with his adorable nephew.

"Dad...?" Eddie asked, voice very meek suddenly. "You know my dad?"

Al considered lying for a moment. "Yeah, I do know your dad," he said instead, deciding to give Ed a shock when he finally dragged his sorry butt to safety. "He's a real piece of work, you know? He's short-tempered and he's got a height complex. But he's tall now so he doesn't let it get to him as much."

"Daddy...?" Eddie mumbled, the otherwise fond name foreign on his tongue.

"Yep! And he loves you a lot!" Al asserted, causing big, honey golden, eyes to gaze up at him in uncertainty. "Never forget that, okay? Your daddy loves you. He always has."

"How come...daddy hasn't been with me...and mommy?" he asked, hesitant but intent on knowing the knows and hows.

"Your dad," Al began, deliberating his following words: "He gets sent on a lot of dangerous missions because he's apart of the military. Your dad didn't know you were going to be born so he left you and your mom behind...he wouldn't have left if he knew you were coming," he added firmly, knowing that even if Ed _thought _about it, he himself wouldn't have allowed the older brother to go through with it.

"My mommy says to never join the military," Eddie mumbled, sinking into Al's arms. "She says its bad."

"It is bad," he agreed, wearily. "But sometimes you have to join, you know? Sometimes its necessity and not a choice."

"How come?"

Alphonse was silent for a moment. He then smiled, a little bitterly. "We had to join because my brother and I had to right the mistake we committed when we were little kids like you. Strange things happened when we preformed alchemy...and I was stuck as a suit of armor, do you know what that is?"

"Uh huh, granny has some huge armors in the basement!" Eddie revealed, eyes glowing with innocent curiosity.

"Well, I lived half my life as a suit of armor."

"You mean...you were an _armor_? That's so _cool_!" he grinned, still not really grasping the significance of his words. "You must've been huge and had spikes and stuff! That's awesome!"

Al merely smiled at his enthusiasm."Yeah, but then my brother said enough was enough and he put me back into my real body."

"Oh...why'd he do that?" Eddie frowned, displeased by how the story had veered off into an undesired road. "You were a cool armor! I wouldn't have let 'em!"

"Being an armor isn't very fun, Eddie, no matter how cool it sounds," Al gently explained. "You can't feel...you can't smell...you can't taste anything...you can't even _sleep_!"

Eddie was quiet for a moment, rolling the idea of being able to feel _nothing _in his developing mind. "You can't even eat apple pie? My mommy makes really, really good pie!"

"Nope, nothing," Al smiled wryly at the suddenly gloomy fall of his face, brows creasing at the sudden despondence that came with being a walking suit of armor. "But my brother managed to pull my soul into my body! So now I'm back to normal, all because of him...your daddy."

Eddie jerked his head back up to him, gold eyes so wide he was sure they couldn't go any wider. "D-daddy...?" he asked, timidly.

"Yep, my brother is your daddy..." he smiled, tense as he awaited his reaction. He was trying to prevent him from _really_ knowing anything but he felt obligated to at least tell the little boy who is real father was: that man who had walked into his cell with a scary face but had instantly formed a connection with the young boy. "You remember that tall man who drank the milk for you...?"

Eddie nodded.

"He's your daddy."

"My daddy..." he left the word to hang between them, his eyes downcast and his fingers twiddling the silk of the wool as the wind picked up a little before reclining to its usual biting burn.

Eddie didn't speak for the rest of the trip, as Alphonse reached the fork and began his trek to the Fort which he could faintly see from the distance.

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..

.

"General, ma'am!" a Briggs soldier saluted, adding upon the leisure nod of the head : "We have visual of whom we assume is the Full Metal Alchemist! Permission to allow him within the premises, ma'am!"

"The Full Metal Alchemist?" General Olivier Armstrong repeated, a smirk crawling on her face. Her sharp nails tapped against the stack of work below her. "So the red runt actually made it out alive, has he? Bring him in."

"Ma'am!" the soldier ducked out of the room, shouting orders to the rest who stood in the hall as Olivier stood up from her chair and closed the document on her desk. Her glacier crystal blue eyes flicked to the man who stood by her desk, the dark-skinned soldier whom she entrusted her back to despite what others thought.

"Miles, get the deployment papers from the lower chambers," she commanded, tone no-nonsense. "We now have authorization to use our small, humble, weapons," she grinned sinisterly, causing Mile's to upturn his lips despite himself.

"Are you sure, General? We've still got a few more days before we have to take necessary action," Miles advised, causing the woman to frown.

"No, do it now. Those Drachmian scum obliterated more than half of my troops! I want to avenge my fallen comrades and what better day and place than here in the evening of the north?" she smirked. "They'll never see it coming. As that blasted Mustang said, it is better to get it over with _now_ than leave it to fester and grow uncontrollably." She picked up the documents, shoving them into Mile's hands. "Request the drones."

"No tanks this time?" Miles humored.

"Tanks...are in the past," she murmured, thoughtfully. "We have better technology now. Briggs, of course, is notoriously known for its advanced defense-artillery arsenal...we will not disappoint the Fuhrer!" she added loftily. "Perhaps this would make that idiotic old goat change his mind and place _my_ name as his successor – the lord knows Mustang will do nothing but ruin this country with his pathetic, naïve, ideals!"

"I'm not sure, ma'am, Brigadier Mustang seems to have grown up some since the last you've seen him," Miles casually injected, flipping through some pages in the document.

Armstrong whipped her head to him, eyes narrowed and seething. "What are you saying, Miles?" she asked dangerously.

"I do not mean to offend you, ma'am," he assured, not very frightened by her chilling gaze. "I am just saying the Brigadier has managed to thin out most of the intruders quicker than we first thought. It seems his plan is working out quite nicely, wouldn't you say?"

"Humph," she scoffed. "Simple beginners luck!"

"Of course, ma'am," Miles chuckled. "I shall initiate Phase 5 immediately." He walked to the door and was about to leave toward the lower chambers when her voice stopped him by the door frame.

"Miles."

"Yes?"

"Wait seventy two hours before deployment," she demanded after a few seconds of silence. "I've got a gut feeling we're going to need more time before we end this."

"Yes, ma'am," Miles saluted leisurely, continuing down to the lower chambers with her commands in mind.

Meanwhile, the General watched the quarter-Ishvalan go with something close to annoyance on her face. She pivoted on her heel and strode down the hall; not even thinking about where she was going as her feet knew exactly. Soon, she was walking to the lift which would take her to the upper portion of the Fort, to the frozen steel balcony from which she had spoken to the infamous Full Metal Alchemist nearly six years or so ago.

The north air was arctic but she no longer shivered or complained about the freezing temperatures. Instead, she stood with her heirloom sword stabbed firmly into the metal, creating a small slice within the iron. Her eyes locked on the figures below, on the man with the blowing light golden hair holding some sort of bulk in his arms.

Her eyes narrowed. She stepped forward, calling strongly: "HALT!"

Heads snapped up to her, as the woman gazed down at the man suspiciously. Her voice carried over the howling winds clearly: "That is _not_ the Full Metal Alchemist!"

Immediately, guns rose and cocked; soldiers leaped back from the man and rose their guard. The person below, who's hair was much too light to be either brothers, gazed up at her and her own eyes narrowed even more at the sight of the unmistakeable gold eyes that glimmered in the blinding white. She stepped forward a bit more, leaning down a fraction to scrutinize the person who nervously looked up at her.

He certainly looked like Alphonse Elric, whom she had only met a few times in the last few years by mere glance while she had visited the Central City hospital in order to smartly taunt Mustang and properly send Miles off to his ancestral land to commence the rebirth of their people along with Scar...

_Strange, _Armstrong thought. She had the fleeting thought that perhaps Full Metal had succumbed to the Norths merciless wishes when the younger man spoke, voice barely reaching her.

"U-um, General?"

"SPEAK UP!" she barked.

Al cringed but did as he was told: "It's me, Alphonse Elric! The Full Metal Alchemist's younger brother!"

"Full Metal's younger brother?" Armstrong repeated, more to herself than him. She had been right. However... "Where is Full Metal?"

"He's still on his way over here!" Alphonse shouted at the top of his lungs, voice hoarse and exhausted. "He escaped from Lieutenant Colonel Isaac and he's on his way over here as we speak, ma'am!"

Armstrong gave the younger Elric a cold, calculating, look. "I do not have any obligation to house the Full Metal Alchemists younger sibling," she scoffed down at him. "I only have orders to obtain and protect the _Full Metal Alchemist_. You could freeze to death for all I care – your safety does not pertain to me." She replaced her sword in its sheath by her waist, turning to enter the warmth of the Fortress when Alphonse spoke up again.

"I HAVE HIS _SON_!"

She stopped, looking over her shoulder. She had read about that on the documents sent by the Fuhrer himself. She had obligation to look after his spawn and dispose of him to Central City should the primary man himself not make it back. "Son?" She turned back to him, intrigued regardless of the fact she disliked children. "You have the red runts son?"

"Yes and you have the order to protect _him!_" Alphonse motioned to the bulk in his arms urgently.

"Show me!" she commanded.

"But its really col—!" at the harsh look, Alphonse hastily removed the wool from the boy and let his head poke out. Eddie made a noise of displeasure in his throat, trying to duck back into the warmth of the blanket only to be forced to look out again by Al's shatteringly cold hand. "Look at the General, Eddie! _Please_ look at the General..."

"But it's cold!" he complained, drowsily.

"I know it's cold but you _have _to look at the General," Al pleaded, nervously. He was no stranger to the Armstrong woman's unflinching and cruel behavior and he honestly wished the boy would just _listen_ to him and show her his face so they could head inside already!

"Ngh..." Eddie fully looked up, to the frightening woman standing far up ahead. Her hair was long, a silky shade of blonde that followed the currents of the frosty wind with practiced ease. Her uniform was crisp, perfect, and her gloved hands gripped the handle of her sword on her waist as she scrutinized him; eyes as clear as sky blue crystal yet filled with so much passionless cruelty.

He felt his own eyes start to water when he noticed the unsightly curl of her lips, the disgust that fleeted her eyes briefly before she shouted, voice like blades: "Bring him inside!" and walked back inside with thoughts of the youngest Elric's luck in her head.

He had survived the first of many rounds in the icy plains of Briggs.

She wondered if Full Metal and company would survive the stretch of the north as she entered the lift in order to properly greet Alphonse and Eddie.

However, she had been correct to wait for deployment of the new technology she rather fondly called a Drone. The devices were composed and derived from automail technology and they were equipped with enough rounds to obliterate a whole company with no trouble at all.

She adored them.

The soldier's being trained to handle such delicate yet massively damaging machinery had graduated long ago and were simply awaiting her word to deploy the menacing machines upon those Drachmian scum throughout the country; both Drachma and Amestris alike.

Casualties would be severe, of course...

_But there must be equal collateral on both sides in order to successfully win this war, _she thought casually, stepping out of the lift with purposeful steps. She rounded a few corners until she made it to the entrance, where Al and Eddie were barely being walked in.

"Follow me!" she shouted, startling Al, who inwardly cursed his luck as he reluctantly followed the strong woman into another set of corridors. "Are you positive Full Metal is alive?"

"Positive," Al declared firmly.

"Who else is with him?"

"A girl – his, um, girlfriend."

Armstrong rose a brow at him. "Why the hesitation...?"

"Well...you know how he was sort of proclaimed dead a few years ago? In order for our plan to work and to successfully win the war?"

"Yes, continue." They made it to two steel doors, which she threw open with an easy push, opening up another endless plunge of doors and soldiers.

"Winry never knew about the plan so she—!"

"Winry," Olivier interrupted again, motioning them inside before she closed the door behind them; allowing Alphonse to quietly gasp to himself at the surge of warmth that engulfed him. He noticed the stark white room, whiter than the outside halls, and saw various nursers and doctors scurry inside, down the various other halls that stretched ahead. "I assume that is the name of his lover?"

"Yes, her name is Winry Rockbell." _Are we in the hospital wing? _He asked himself, deciding they were when he noticed a few ER doctors rolling in an injured soldier in a gurney up ahead; too far for him to see what he was in with before he disappeared behind a set of double-doors.

"I have heard much talk of her – was she not captured by Drachmian forces a few weeks ago?"

"Yes, but we managed to break her out and...well, complications arose," Al sighed. "That's the reason why brother isn't with me at the moment."

"I see," Armstrong decided to suck the details out of him later when her eyes landed on the wiggling bulk in his arms. "And I assume she was not informed and thus believed Full Metal was actually dead, right?"

"Basically."

She nodded, already knowing the entire story without him telling her. She had heard of too many stories such as these. "And the child?"

"Oh, you mean Eddie?"

Olivier gave Al a blank stare. "...Yes. Him."

Al cleared his throat. "H-his full name is Edward Royce Rockbell."

She nodded once, committing this to memory. "He is unhurt? Have you both managed to arrive unharmed?" The way she said it was mocking, as if she expected him to be limping and with several gunshot wounds in his body.

"We're fine aside from being frozen stiff!" he laughed, his laugh dying at the sight of her unamused eyes. "Yeah, we're fine..." he mumbled.

"Can I come out now?" Eddie whined from under the blankets, making Al curse inwardly. "Is the scary lady gone?"

_Oh, shit! _Al swore in his head, flickering fearful eyes to the General, who stared at covered boy in his eyes with something close to disdain. The unsightly nickname had been funny outside, far away from the frightening General, but now it was just _asking_ for her to stick that sharp sword down his throat! "No, Eddie, the scar—General isn't gone yet. She's right here, why don't you come out and say hi?"

"...No," he replied, flatly.

Al nearly whimpered. "Your mother will be angry if you don't," he coaxed.

"She's not here!"

"She will be."

"Nu uh!"

"Edward," he warned.

"Nhnn!" Eddie cautiously popped his head out from the blankets, locking brilliant gold orbs onto the General's wide eyes. She composed herself quickly enough, smoothing her face apathetic once more as she gazed at the little boy who cocked his head to the side and continued to curiously look at her.

"Edward Royce Rockbell?" she repeated to him, who merely blinked back.

"My mommy calls me Eddie!" he told her with a small smile.

Olivier flashed her eyes to Alphonse blandly. "Our doctors will have a look at you both for any signs of hypothermia or any other ailments," she explained crisply, ignoring the boy now. "I will send for someone to redirected to our guest chambers afterward."

"Thank you, ma'am," Al sincerely muttered, only to get a stiff nod from Olivier.

Just as she turned to leave, a happy voice chirped: "Bye bye scary soldier lady!"

"Eddie!" Al hissed, alarmingly.

Armstrong was still by the door, her eyes staring ahead with an undetectable emotion in her twin blue eyes. "...Later, little red runt," she smirked out, continuing her stride as Al gawked at her backside; Eddie giggling at the nickname and wondering why Al had gone from pale to relieved so quickly.

"You're...really a hand full sometimes, you know that?" Al chuckled to him.

Eddie pouted. "Nu uh! My mom says I'm the best in the whole wide world! It's true, too!"

Al, in that moment, realized something.

_Oh, great! _Al groaned inwardly, when he noticed the rather smug glint in the boys eyes. _He didn't inherit Ed's height complex...he inherited his PRIDE._

"Don't you think you should be considerate to others? I thought you said _I_ was the best," Al reminded, hopefully.

Eddie looked up at him as if he were stupid. "Nope. _I'm _the best! But if you want, you can be _second_ best!"

Al would have ran a hand down his face if he wasn't carrying the arrogant boy in his arms.


	7. Ultimatum

**Wanderlust  
_by. _**_Poisoned Scarlet_

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**Chapter 7: **Ultimatum

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The cold was numbing.

It seemed to reach into the very marrow of his bones as he rested his head against the ice wall behind him. He cracked one eye open, managing to see Winry's back as she stacked up blocks of ice to cover the entrance they had crawled into once the hit of snow became too thick to continue walking in.

Alchemy was harder to perform when he could barely move his right arm. Clapping his left hand upon his right palm sent shock waves of pain up his arm that momentarily stunned him. His right arm had more sensitivity than his left and he assumed this was because he had gone years without a right arm and, to have it attached back so abruptly, had caused him to feel more than he would've liked.

"There!" Winry breathed out. "We'll just wait out the blizzard, okay?" She crawled over to him, the tear on her side crusted with blood but healed. He had managed to heal her side using his knowledge of Alkahestry although it had been rather excruciating to do so.

He only wished he could heal his own wound but, ultimately, it was impossible. Alkahestry was used more for treating flesh wounds than readjusting bone into _socket_...

"Let me see your shoulder," Winry asked, already making a grab for his thick coat. His left hand flashed up, grabbing her wrist.

"It's fine," he said, eyes still closed. "Just leave it alone – it's not as bad as you think."

"Well, I'll be the judge of _that_!" she replied loftily, pushing his arm away and gently moving his coat to the side, watching a spasm of pain cross his face before he controlled the reflex. "Can you move your arm back at all?" she asked, worriedly.

"Yes—no!" He snapped his eyes open, lurching forward and forcing her back when she suddenly moved the coat down his shoulder, causing jolts of pain to attack his injury. Alphonse never did things half-way – he felt rather proud of that although his shoulder was causing him more pain than he'd like. "Okay, that's enough doctor for today!" he strained.

"Ed, I have to see how bad it is," she frowned. She tugged his shirt down, despite the coat still on his shoulders, and stood up on her knees, peeking over to gander at the wound.

She bit her lip at what she saw. She could clearly see the dislocation – the bone that looked as if it were popping out of the bruised skin – and she felt for him when he groaned and pressed a palm over her stomach, pushing her back and grumbling for her to let him go because it was _really _starting to hurt.

"...We have to put it back," she finally said, after a second of staring at the bruising injury.

"_What?_ No!" Ed shook his head vigorously. "No way in hell am I letting you touch it!"

"Edward, we have to push the bone back in or else it could stay like that..." she trailed off.

He scoffed. "A couple of hours like this won't disfigure me for life, if that's what you're worried about!"

"It's not that!" she shouted, brows creasing. "It's..it's really bad... who did that to you? I swear I'd—!"

"Al," he replied simply.

Winry's jaw fell open. "_WHAT?_" she shrieked. "Alphonse dislocated your shoulder? What the hell was he _thinking?_ I'm going to kick his sorry little ass the next time I see him!"

"As much as I'd _love _to see that," Ed sniggered, going back to closing his eyes. "I asked him to—ouch!"

"You moron!" she shouted, furiously, knocking a fist in his skull. "You're such an idiot, you-you _stupid_ _idiot_!"

"What the hell was that for?" Ed swore under his breath, left hand gingerly touching the bump on his forehead. "Son of a bitch, now I'm even _more _hurt than before! Ever thought of that, gear head?"

"You'll live," she shot back scathingly. "If you can still form coherent sentences, you're _just_ fine!"

"What's your problem, anyway?" Ed muttered, acerbically.

"My problem? My problem is that you're hurt and we're stuck in the middle of the blizzard and-and my _son_ is somewhere out there with your dumbass brother who almost broke your arm and-and _now_ we're being chased by some demented officer who's out for both our blood because he has some sort of grudge against you and me!" she cried, tears brimming her eyes and starting to flood down her cheeks.

Alarmed by her tears, Edward straightened up. "Aw, shit, don't cry—!"

"And I don't even know if Eddie is _okay_," she hiccuped, the worry heavy in her eyes as she roughly rubbed off her tears. "What if he's hurt or if-if Isaac caught up with Al and he's not...he's not safe like we-we thought he was?" Her voice cracked.

Edward used his left hand to push himself off the wall. He grabbed her shoulder a little roughly, bringing her into his chest with equal strength. Her hand against the ice wall behind him held her steady as his arm fell from her shoulder down to her waist, his forehead resting on her collar bone.

"Wh...what are you doing?" she mumbled thickly, face growing pink when she felt him tighten his hold around her waist. "E...Ed?"

"Just shut up and stop crying," he bit back, voice a little gruff. She was about retort with a biting retort when he continued: "Eddie is just fine. I trust Alphonse – I know he made it to the Fort safe and sound. They're probably waiting for us as we speak...so stop crying, he's just fine. I _know _he is."

She considered this, as her knees slipped from under her and she fell onto him, hand also sliding from the slick ice wall and landing by her side limply. "S-sorry..." she mumbled. She tried to sit back up, the position awkward and uncomfortable, when she felt him slid his right leg out from its drawn in position and his left hand cupped the base of her neck, pushing her against his chest as his head lolled back and he stared at the white ceiling, ignoring the red heat that had crawled on his cheeks.

She was still for a moment. "Do you think he'll find us?" she asked, sniffling. He was warm, warmer than anything else in the ditch they had crawled into to avoid the storm. She could literally feel the warmth radiate from him and she drew closer to him.

"Nah," he replied, softly. "He might be an alchemist but not even _he_ could survive one of those things," he eyes strayed to the small hole she had left for air, to the gush of white he saw. He knew the storm was still raging on.

"Did you even know he was an alchemist?"

"No!" he scowled suddenly, annoyed by this. "He never gave _any_ real interest to the art of alchemy. All he ever said was that alchemy was a pretty good skill to take over Amestris or somethin'...I never really thought he'd actually _know_..."

Winry frowned, looking up at him. His head was still tossed back. All she could see was the pale curve of his neck, leading up to his angular chin... "You should've considered it. You spent, what, five years over there and you didn't even _consider _him knowing alchemy? He spoke about it a lot, I take it?"

His scowl deepened. "...What's your point?"

She looked back down when he tried to look at her. "My point is that you pretty much screwed up," she laughed when she heard his grunt. "Please tell me you at least did _something_ and didn't waste nearly five years for nothing?"

"Hey, Al and I found out a lot of crap you wouldn't even believe!" Ed defended, with a huff.

"Like?"

"Like..." he paused. He glanced down at her but all he could see was the crown of her blonde head. For a second, he got a flash of Eddie and the streaks of corn yellow that twisted with his own shade of deep gold. He felt a pang in his chest, something close to grief at the thought of him being hurt, but he ignored it in order to answer her question. "Your relocation."

"What?" she looked up him this time, meeting his eyes. "What're you talking about?"

Edward slowly answered: "Mustang...was suppose to relocate you because you were in danger of assassination..."

Her eyes rounded, mouth falling open. "Seriously? Assassination? Is that why they kept switching me from place to place?"

"You mean you never _knew_?" Ed shouted incredulously, cringing when his arm shocked him back into being docile.

"Well, Riza just said it was getting dangerous to live in Resembool because of the war," she trailed off, thoughtfully. "She never said about hits on my head, though!"

"Damn that bastard!" Ed growled viciously, vowing to somehow extract revenge on Mustang; how'd he kept her pretty much in the dark about everything against his will. That was the _one_ thing they had both agreed on telling her – even if she thought he was dead. "He _lied!_"

"I'm actually kind of relieved he didn't tell me," she sighed out, sinking back on her knees to properly look at him. "I already had my hands full with Eddie...having that thrown into my life would've made things a lot harder than they already were," she smiled weakly. "I would've gone insane with paranoia or something..."

Edward squeezed her waist silently, pressing his lips together. He had caught the undercurrent of bitterness and it made him feel...like a bastard. The continuous cycle of self-depreciating thoughts – the fact that he resembled his father in more ways than one – was beginning to wear on him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered guiltily. "You must have...had it rough, without me—er, us."

"Don't worry too much about it," she said softly, placing her hands on her lap so she could do something. She wasn't sure of what to do and she was growing increasingly aware that they were both stuck in a small little ditch; out in the cold plains of Briggs. Alone. "You're—you're not dead and that's all that matters. You're not..dead..." She sunk her fingers into the hem of the sweater, eyes glued to the floor. "You're _okay_."

"...When this is all over..." he began, slowly; unsurely. She rose dull eyes. His own were fixed to the floor, as he collected his messy thoughts. "When this is all over, I'll be there for him," he promised, knowing he did not need to say his name for her to know who he was talking about. His fist clenched. "I won't let him grow up fatherless – I've already screwed up the first five years of his life, it'd be worse to just let him grow up without...without a dad. Like me and Al did."

Winry smiled, a little more genuinely. "I'd really like that, Edward."

He still hadn't rose his own eyes, keeping them on the floor the entire time. She waited cautiously, not sure if he was going to continue. After two minutes of thick silence, she allowed her own gaze to drop back to her lap; to her trembling hands as the cold grew frosty.

"I'll also be there for you, too," he said, voice barely audible. "I've been one shitty boyfriend, haven't I?" he chuckled, resentfully. "First I promise to stay with you...then I knock you up and leave you to go get involved in some dumb war...then I fake my death and ruin your life...Jeez, I'm just one fuck up after the other, aren't I?" He slumped against the ice wall, eyes still trained on the floor; the guilt and regret and remorse and resentment creating a dark, rusted shade of gold to dominate his usually bright eyes. He grit his teeth, knowing he deserved more than a simple dislocated arm for all the—

"You're _not_," she firmly said, distracting him for a moment. "Don't say that Edward because you're the bravest man I've _ever_ met," his eyes slowly rose and she lowered her own, unable to meet his gaze. "I always knew that if I allowed myself to fall for you there would be things I'd never be able to match up to," she admitted, with a soft pink on her cheeks. "You've always been a sort of adrenaline junkie," she chuckled. "I accepted the fact that you might not be there for years sometimes. It doesn't bother me, as long as you keep in touch...as long as you don't forget me, it's okay—!"

"How can you even _say_ that?" his harsh voice interrupted her. "How the hell can you even _accept _some bullshit excuse like that?"

She tightened her hands into fists. "Because you've always _been_ like that," she whispered. "You've always had a severe case of wanderlust, Edward, and there's I can do to stop that. You love to travel, you love to-to _learn_. I've tried and...there isn't any other option," she sighed, resignedly.

"But—how can you just...come to term with that?" Ed continued, more in self-disgust; unable to comprehend just how much patience this woman had and just how _much _she was willing to sacrifice for him. It made him feel unsuitable to even be with her; unworthy and pathetic. He didn't deserve something this amazing...he didn't deserve someone like her; she _deserved_ better. "If I was in your position I...would have given up after a while," he admitted, shamefully. "Someone like that...is someone who doesn't deserve someone like you."

Winry whipped her head up, staring wide-eyed at his shadowed face. "You deserve better than me," he whispered, hoarsely "Maybe it'd be better if... I stopped holding you back from what you truly deserve."

A slap sounded.

Edward stared at his lap with wide eyes. He rose his hand to his cheek, touching the forming welt with something akin to wonder as he looked at Winry, who still had her hand up and her eyes expressed the most outrage he had ever seen.

"Don't you ever say that, you idiot!" she shouted, harshly. "Don't you ever tell me to move onto someone else because I'd _never _do that! _I love you_ with everything I've got, Ed, so don't you _ever _tell me that again or so help me I'll _beat _it into you with every tool in my toolbox!"

Edward stared at her, unable to say a single word as her hand dropped to her side and she lowered despaired eyes to her lap when he said nothing. She pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, trying to stop the ruthless burn that swallowed her heart.

She still loved him.

_She still loves me._

The thought of giving her away was debilitatingly painful for him to even think about but he would do anything to grant her the happiness she rightly deserved. But if happiness to her meant being with him, someone as liberal as the wind with a wanderer's heart, then he would try to tame that part of him: for her.

He could hear her crying again and he wasted no time in bringing her closer to him, letting her scent fill him to his content as she clung to his shirt and cried in his chest. His dislocated arm prevented most movement but he forced it to move, forced it to clutch her to him as he crushed her to his chest; listening to her unintelligible gibberish with a soft smile he didn't think he'd be able to ever show again.

"I'm sorry..."

"Just—shut up, Ed, you're ruining the moment!"

He cracked a smile.

He would try – just for her.

.

..

.

She had snapped his bone back into its rightful socket right after the heartfelt moment, to his dry amusement. She seemingly extracted her revenge for his 'stupid thoughts', as she angrily grumbled, and Edward supposed that this would be the first and _final_ time he'd ever tell her to move onto someone else because he felt unworthy of being with someone as amazing as her.

After it had been properly shoved into place, which hurt more than the initial dislocation itself, the pain numbed with the arctic winds and he was able to move his fingers without feeling shooting pain. He was also able to move his arm although he was still limited and that annoyed him to some extent.

It felt like when he broke his automail all over again – only this time he couldn't simply hand his right arm over to Winry and she'd mess around with it and hand it back to him: good and fixed.

"The storms easing," Winry observed, when she peeked through the small hole she had allowed for air circulation. She dug some of the excess snow that had piled up on the entrance with her hand and noticed that it had definitely calmed down. There was no longer that endless blanket of white that blinded her from everything. "We should get going soon, right?"

"Yeah, do you see anyone out there?" Ed asked, as he tried to get his arm to function the most possible without damaging it more than it already was. He needed to be ready. The instant those men got the alert that the storm had ceased for a good while, they'd be out there; searching. He needed to be in the best shape he could be with a recently-fixed dislocated arm.

He grimaced.

At least he'd be able to preform alchemy...

"Nope. It's all white.." she checked again for good measure and was positive there was no one out there. They had crossed the Drachmian border already but Ed had said that they still needed ways to go and Drachmian soldiers didn't heed the border line at all.

"Good, lets get going then. I bet Al's having a cow right now 'cause we're so damn late!" Edward gave her back a gentle nudge and she conceded, crawling out of the hole and onto the fluff of snow. She stood up a little unsteadily, her legs lacking circulation, and it wasn't long before Ed also crawled out, standing up with ease unlike her.

"C'mon," Ed muttered, eyes scanning the white behind him before he turned around and followed the untouched trail to the mountainside, which would lead them to the looming and ever-intimidating fortress of Briggs. "Before another storm swings by."

"This is why I hated North City when Riza had me relocated there," Winry grumbled, following Ed quickly.

"You were relocated to North City?" Ed scowled disapprovingly at that. "When I get my hands on Mustang, I'm choking him for all he's worth, that dickhead! How the hell is it a good idea to relocate a _wanted _person near the battle fronts of the people who want to _kill _said person?"

"He said it'd be too obvious and no one would notice."

"Please! And, what, he thought that was an ingenious move or something? It's too risky," he rejected the idea flatly.

"It kind of worked though," Winry mumbled, ignoring the irked look he sent her. "Until I couldn't take the weather anymore and I demanded to move back to Rush Valley."

"Let me guess, that's where they kidnapped you from, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed. A depressed, even gloomier emotion set into her heart. Thinking about her old home in Rush Valley was a topic that she had been avoiding for several days; only allowing those grief-filled thoughts to wander free during the darkest hours of the night, when no one could hear her sobbing.

She swallowed thickly, recomposing herself before she drowned in those icy waters.

"You alright?" he asked, softly.

"I'm just...granny," she whispered and he understood immediately. That had been one of the topics they had discussed during the times he spent his breaks with her. It had been a hard topic to bring up and it had done her more harm than good, as Edward had been shocked silent for the first three minutes while she cried herself hoarse into her hands.

She felt his hand ruffle her hair gently. "She wouldn't want you to mourn over her, you know," he said, comforting. "That hag would probably haunt you if she found out you were crying your eyes out, Win," he smiled, causing her to allow a small upturn of her own lips.

"Mmhmm," she hummed in reply. "Granny would probably beat me with her pipe," she laughed softly.

"That damn cancer stick..." Ed chuckled. "I guess it's a good thing she didn't...go because of her habit, eh?"

Winry's mood sobered. "I'd rather she die happy than by the hands of some soldier," she swallowed down a lump of grief. "At least if she died of cancer or something...she'd be happy." She bitterly crushed the traitorous thought of another family member having gone because of a war.

"S-sorry," Ed cleared his throat. "I made it worse, didn't I?"

"It's okay, at least you tried," she sighed, giving him a weary smile. He still looked a little guilty. "Hey, are we there yet?" she asked instead, when the silence and their staring became too much for her to take. She looked away, face a little red.

"Almost," Ed mumbled, flicking his eyes forward when she looked away. "When you see a huge black thing in the distance – then we're there!"

"Gee, that's really descriptive, Ed," Winry rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I'm an alchemist – not some poetic sissy like Al is!"

"Al is _not_ a sissy!"

"_Please_, he went half his adolescence sounding like a priss and he _knows_ it!" he howled in laughter, only to be silenced by Winry's punch to the arm. His injured right arm. "Was—was it _really _necessary to hit my _injured _arm?" Ed wheezed, holding his throbbing arm.

"If you keep talking about your brother like that then yes, it is," she harrumphed.

"Tch. He talks about me behind my back, too, I _know_ it," he grumped silently to himself.

"Yeah, he talks about all your _good attributes_, which, trust me, there aren't a lot," she laughed at his glower. "I'm kidding! The most he can make fun of you about is your height—which he can't use anymore, of course," she added quickly, upon seeing his dangerously narrowed eyes. "...Or that hair sticking out of your forehead."

"Damn it, stop bringing that up, woman! _Yes, _it's a cowlick. _GET OVER IT!_" he screeched, which only made her smirk widen as they tread through the thick snow. Her eyes strayed ahead and she faintly saw something that seemed like an ink blot in paper. The closer they walked, the clearer it became until finally she could see the great majestic Fort Briggs in all its luster.

Composed of giant, hard steel, walls, the fort effortlessly delivered the proper amount of fear and trepidation within a person. She gazed at the enormous beams, the to-die-for bolts that created that masterpiece of a landmark as they slowly began to delve closer and closer to their destination.

"STOP! WHO GOES THERE?" A strong voice came from above the fort, the platforms that, she saw, held numerous guard soldiers with their loaded arms out and ready for shooting. She saw Ed stop and she followed his lead, watching him wave rather lazily at them.

"YO!" he shouted with a bored drawl. "It's _me_!"

She noticed the soldier lean over the rail, no doubt to squint down to see if he could recognize the person. She noticed, faintly, his eyes grow wide and soon he was telling the soldier next to him – who dashed off and disappeared through a door.

"What're they doing?" she asked curiously, when she noticed the sudden frenzied panic.

"Probably freaking out that I'm actually alive or something," he grumbled. "That damn General woman probably counted me out and said something like 'he has succumbed to Briggs ultimate law: survival of the fittest,'" he mimicked her ridiculously, causing Winry to giggle. "Or, like, 'he's just a stupid red runt'. I don't even know why I put up with her shit!" Ed scowled.

"So it _is_ you, Full Metal," a strong, female, voice carried through the wind. "Surprising, how you managed to survive that blizzard without a scratch. I appraise you," she stated, with hidden sarcasm that Edward caught anyway.

Winry looked up, surprised to see General Olivier Armstrong standing where the soldiers once stood; her hand holding onto her precious sword on her waist. As the rumors had stated, her face was wiped of emotion; a perfect poker face that Winry found hard to believe, even if she was staring at her in that very moment.

"General, ma'am!" Ed nervously saluted, shifting his eyes to avoid her intense cold stare.

"Funny, you were bad-talking her a few seconds ago," Winry muttered slyly to Ed, who shot her nasty look.

"Yeah, well, _now _I remember why I put up with her shit," Ed muttered right back, as Olivier nodded to the guards below to allow him entrance into the Fort through the steel-reenforced doors down below – which opened like two gigantic doors to, from Ed's perspective, hell, although Winry would beg a differ as they both walked through the doors and into a rather barren and cold lobby that led to a lift and a few other halls if they walked a little deeper.

"Follow me," a soldier hollered at them, pointing to the elevator. "The General will see you, Full Metal..." His eyes strayed to Winry, who stood a bit awkwardly next to him.

Edward noticed the soldier's frown but instead said: "Is my brother here?"

"Yes, he's currently in the guest chambers," he informed, the information clicking in his head. She was the woman they were also waiting for. "I shall go drop her off with him. You will head straight to General Armstrong's office. I'll send—!"

"Nah, I've got it," Ed waved off. "I've been here enough times to know where her office is."

The solider smiled wryly. "Whatever you say, sir. Ma'am, if you will...?" He motioned for the lift and they both stepped inside, stopping on what felt like the third floor. She was about to follow Ed when the soldier shook his head at her.

"You follow him further up," Edward explained. "This is my stop. You're safe now. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay. See you," Winry nodded, as the doors closed and she no longer saw his receding backside. The soldier beside her pushed a few buttons and the lift continued further up, the ride smooth and quiet before they stopped on the desired floor. The trek down the barren, cold, corridors reminded her of when Edward took her out of her cell to visit Eddie. Although there was a major difference with these halls than Drachmian halls: the people.

These halls were bursting with soldiers and technicians alike. She glanced to all the men who scurried to and fro hurriedly, some holding papers in their hands and others speaking rapidly to each other. They continued deeper, taking a few bends and walking until they could no longer hear the frenzied soldiers behind them.

"What were they doing back there?" Winry asked, clearing her throat. Her voice echoed.

"They're just preparing for our counterstrike," the soldier shot over his shoulder, grinning at her surprised face. "We were just waiting for you two to be safely within our base in order to commence to the next stage of the operation."

"So, what _are_ you guys going to do? Send another fleet of soldiers out to counter them or something?" she asked, speeding up so she wasn't so behind.

"Ha! That'd be a kicker, wouldn't it?" the soldier shook his head, amused. "We've got something better, ma'am."

"Better? Like?" she prompted, eager despite herself.

"I heard you were an automail technician," the soldier suddenly said, confusing her.

"I _am _an automail technician. Just because I got dragged into this mess doesn't make me any less adept in the field of automail technology," she stuck her nose in the air.

"Well, then I guess I don't need to go into too much detail," he smiled at her. "We're preparing the Drones for deployment. Should we have deployed them while you were still out there, walking in the snow, they would have shot you down without a seconds thought."

Winry felt her heart leap to her throat. She gave him a wide-eyed stare, her mouth falling open in shock. "D-Drone?" she stuttered, glee leaking into her words. "You actually manage to create one of those _wonderful_ pieces of machinery? I've only heard rumors but I never thought that they were _real_! Riza told me but I always thought she was kidding me or something!" she squealed, as the soldier laughed at her excitement. "That's the most spectacular, ingenious, aircraft I have _ever_ heard about! If only I could see it...I'd _LOVE _to take it apart!" She was nearly drooling at the thought.

"Calm down, miss! I don't think it'd be a very wise idea to break down an Drone in just this moment," the soldier laughed. "We're set for deployment in a few minutes. You two made it just in time, actually."

"Is that what General Armstrong is going to speak to Ed about?" she guessed.

"Eh, she might have mention it," he shrugged. "I'm not sure what they're discussing but the Drone operation is definitely not it. Major Elric has known of this since the beginning of his assignment."

"You guys have been working on this since that long ago?" she whispered, awed.

"Since a _long_ time before that!" the soldier nodded proudly. "I'm actually chief to the mechanics department! So I handle most of the pressing problems such as malfunctions and break downs and appointing who'll man the craft in some instances," he grinned at her sparkling eyes. "Although these babies don't _need _a pilot, now, do they?" he winked.

"You...are my _idol_," she whispered excitedly, seemingly gone over the edge by all of this sweet, sweet information. "I guess it is true: Briggs does hold this country's most advanced technology."

"And don't you forget it, ma'am!"

.

..

.

The conversation with the frosty General had gone down just as he had imagined it would: with a bang and a poke at his height. It had mostly been composed of whatever knowledge he had acquired from Drachma headquarters and the General had only asked the most important of questions. In exchanged, she had briefly informed him that the Drones were set for deployment in a few hours time, as they were preforming last-minute checks to ensure their function and capability out in the freezing air of the north.

"You were lucky," she had said, before their conversation came to a close. "If we had deployed those Drones while you were still out there, they would have made you both minced meat before you even blinked." The feral smile accompanied with the veiled threat made him feel no less safe, either. But she was a far cry from the General's he had been unlucky enough to speak with.

Now _those_ would make you tremble in your boots and soil yourself.

"You do know where the guest chambers are, correct?" she had also asked.

"I didn't even know you guys _had _guest chambers," had been his dry reply.

"Fifth floor," she instructed. "Continue through the communications hall and take right. Then take another right and a left. You should see a large steel door. Go through it and your brother and son should be behind one of the doors in the sector."

Edward, as he tread through the communication hall, which was still bustling with people, hadn't known what to feel when she had mentioned his offspring. It was still an awkward feeling, to say 'son', so he had merely nodded and waited to be excused by a casual wave of her hand.

He stopped before the large steel door, just as she had said he would come across. He was positive Winry was also behind those doors, most likely chatting amicably with his brother and perhaps playing with Eddie. He knew he should be there, also bonding with the son he had let raise fatherless for the past five years, but the nervous twinge in his stomach, the traitorous warning that went off in his head, made it hard to follow through with his promise to Winry.

He knew he would have problems trying to stay put. There was no arguing otherwise. It wasn't in him to simply sit idle while the world continued to spin. He had promised Winry he would try to be there for his child, he would try to push the need to wander to the back of his mind so he could be there for Eddie, but it was still something difficult to pull off when all his life he had only known adventure and danger.

A withdrawal that big from the adrenaline he drowned in on a near-daily basis would take years to fully alleviate.

That was what had him concerned: how long. It wasn't that he _couldn't _do it, he damn well knew he could if he set his mind to it, but it was just how _long _he would have to suffer with the ghastly after-effects of not being able to wander the world and experience all its perks; see all its wonders.

_We'll just have to see, _he thought, ending the thought and pushing through the steel door. The hall was darkly lit and silent, as the door shut noisily behind him. He could hear his breathing echo through the narrow corridors that ran ahead. He tried the first door, poking his head through to see no one.

He tried the different doors on either wall beside him until he came to the third door. The quiet click sounded loud, noisily, but he ignored it and peeked his head through, noticing a bulk on the bed. The room was also warmer than the rest. He entered the room, glancing around and seeing no one else inside.

"Winry?" he whispered, hoping to get a response. "Alphonse?" There was no one and he walked to the bed, noticing it was Eddie who was asleep under the sheets. He looked peaceful, just lying there curled into the sheets with his short hair splayed over his eyes.

Edward's hand twitched forward, to the strands of rich blond that swept past his eyes. He froze just centimeters before touching them. His father used to do this to him. He remembered, that day when he had gone to visit Pinako alone, his father had tried to do this to him but never managed to go down with it; having not enough guts to really do it.

He wouldn't have let him anyway, he bitterly thought, he would have woken and shoved his hand away.

_Right? _He asked himself. Right?

It had been the fateful day that planned out the rest; the words that broke him when he had stated if what they had created, what they had _tried so hard to do_, was really Trisha. To know that it wasn't, that they had not killed her twice, had been a relief as well as a disappointment; a grievance that had been properly shut down against their bitter wills.

He snapped his gaze back to Eddie when he heard shifting. His outstretched hand moved back when the little boy moved under the sheets, opening one drowsy eye to lock with his shadowed ones. As if he had been waiting for him but had fell asleep doing so, Eddie's eyes sprung open and he sat up, staring up at Edward with suddenly sparkling gold eyes.

His chest constricted, the emotions similar to adoration and sorrow clutching his throat closed. The little boy grinned widely and said the word he had never been able to say and never thought it would be said _to_: "Daddy!"

_Daddy?_

_He called me daddy..._

_He called me dad._

The massive swarm of unadulterated joy and anguish was impossible for him to fully understand. His heart swelled, his eyes stung, and his breath hitched when the little boy reached up for him, once again shouting that dreadful yet delightful word with every hint of happiness and love with which he said 'mother'. There was none of the doubt or indecisiveness in his words; none of the uncertainty or guilt or any other emotion he expected.

It was solid.

It was certain.

It made him cry and, in a way, he didn't really mind as he crushed the little boy to his chest; dropping on his knees by the bedside and closing his eyes to stop the free tear flow. This had been something he had been denied when he was a child: the warmth of a parent, the love of a father.

He refused to let him go through that pain. He refused to have him grow up with that irreparable chafe in his heart; the void of loneliness and yearn of paternal compassion.

If he could help it, he would avoid letting him grow up fatherless.

And if that meant giving up his adventures, he would gratefully say it hadn't been a high price to pay.

"Daddy!" Eddie said, in an exaggerated whisper. "Mommy and mister Al are back..."

For a second, Edward thought he had heard wrong. But now that he managed to calm his racing heart and suck up the pathetic sniffles, he could hear his brothers breathing and Winry whispering something to Al, who replied back a few seconds later.

Edward felt his face start to heat up, embarrassed that he had been caught red-handed in such a vulnerable position. His pride was still in tact, even if he vowed to shower the little boy in all the paternal affection he could muster, and if he was a teenager he'd jump back ten feet and stammer out an excuse... He had the urge to do just that, actually.

But now he was older. He was_ twenty five_, for crying out loud! He should be able to freely show a bit of weakness every now and then... _but like hell am I going to give Al an opening to make fun of me! _He thought stubbornly, whispering in Eddie's ear. "...When I let you go, I want you to jump Al and call him 'uncle Al'."

"Uncle Al?"

"Shh!" he hushed hastily. "Yes, uncle Al. You got that?"

"Mmhmm!" Eddie nodded, excitedly.

"The instant I let go, alright? You ready?" He felt Eddie nod into his chest and he rather reluctantly let go, smirking when the boy followed his orders and jumped off the bed, screaming: "UNCLE _AL_!" like there was no tomorrow and crashing into his legs, causing the older man to wobble a bit before he steadied himself.

"U-uncle?" he spluttered, in shock.

"Uncle Al!" Eddie sang in reply, grinning up at him as he did

Edward stood up straight, snickering when he saw his brothers eyes grow glossy. "H-he called me uncle..." he mumbled, disbelief in his words. Edward saw his younger brother quickly rub his eyes out and pick up the boy, smiling brightly when the little boy once again called him uncle.

"So, where were you guys?" Edward asked, crossing his arms as Alphonse conversed with Eddie, who happily replied back every time. "I got bored waiting for you two to arrive." He looked away from Winry's risen brow.

"One of the soldiers that brought me here offered to take me down to the lower shafts so I could get a once in a lifetime opportunity to watch the dismantlement of a defective Drone," Winry sighed dreamily. "I fixed it..."

"WHAT?" Ed squawked, shocked.

"Winry poked around with the small cannon attached to the underside of the plane," Al explained, rather wryly. "And she found out that the wire which made it function had been unplugged so she basically tightened the bolt and it worked again. They stopped dismantling it and spent a whole twenty minutes thanking her..." Al snickered. "They were more or less convinced that General Armstrong would have their heads in icicles and hung around the Fort for decoration..."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Ed snorted back. "That woman is insane. She's worse than Teacher on a bad day!"

"You're telling me," Alphonse replied thoughtfully, remembering just how wild and rabid their teacher got whenever she was having a bad day. Edward had a point: Olivier Armstrong was one to be reckoned with. "Hey, Eddie, I've got a surprise for you!" Al kneeled, grinning.

"Really? What is it! What is it!" he asked excitedly.

"Follow me and you'll see!" Al smiled down at him, grabbing his hand and leading him out, the little boy excitedly asking just what it was Alphonse would give him as the door shut after a nodding look over his shoulder to his brother.

The room became silent once more.

Winry looked toward Edward, who looked to be himself again. He wasn't the vulnerable boy she had seen when he embraced his son – no he had receded back into his shell, became the arrogant and knowing man that she found endearing as well as annoying.

"He's always wanted a dad," Winry began quietly, not meeting his eyes this time. "He's never directly asked but I know he's always wondered. He probably imagined something else... he's a really creative boy," she smiled softly. "I think he resembles Al more, don't you think?"

"Nah," Ed chuckled, gazing at the door the two had walked out of. "He's got my spirit and your smile."

Her face felt hot. She had been complimented before by Edward, of course, during their short courtship before he was deployed to war, but hearing him compliment her now made her feel like a teenager again. She could even feel sweat start to break out when she heard his footsteps grow closer.

His hand hesitantly rested on her arm.

"Win..."

She heard his hard swallow, felt his hand squeeze her arm.

He was trying, she realized, slowly trying to ease them back into the blissful relationship they had created years ago. Instead of waiting for him to slowly bring his other hand up, she dove right in. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tips of her toes to be able to accomplish the task.

She closed her eyes, face still hot, heart still jumping to her throat, and blood still zinging through her veins, but she couldn't have asked for a better reconciliation as he wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders and she felt the gaping rift between them reduce to a hairs breadth with just one embrace.

* * *

**A/N: **Whoa, late update I know. I think I'm going to upload the next few chapters very slowly because I have a minor case of authors laziness. Yes, it means I am actually too _lazy _to write out the next chapter. Brutally honest? Perhaps. But I give you guys the facts straight - I won't make up some dumb excuse. I've got around five thousand words down for the chapter I've stopped on currently and I'm trying to get down another two thousand before I consider it done! Considering my computers been down these past few days, its safe to say I've had enough time to brainstorm the finale for this fanfiction, which I am firm on ending with one particular sentence XD

Revew!

_Scarlett._


	8. Ambush

**Wanderlust  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

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**Chapter 8: **Ambush

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"Everything is going according to plan, ma'am." Miles informed, looking distinctly pleased as General Olivier Armstrong sank back in her leather chair, a smirk tugging her lips.

"Don't you just love it when we lapse into breaks?" Armstrong murmured, rather satisfied herself. "I have always enjoyed restarting the aggressions...it's a bad habit of mine."

"Agreed." Miles chuckled, replacing his goggles over the red eyes that gave way to his Ishvalan heritage. "One of the drones had to almost be taken out of charge." He stated, causing the woman to quirk a brow. "It seems that Winry Rockbell helped fix the glitch and they were able to deploy it just in time with the rest."

"Rockbell?" Armstrong mused aloud. "Full Metal's woman?"

"Yes."

"Humph." Armstrong scoffed, not bothered by the fact that the girl had saved them thousands in military funds due to her quick thinking. "I suppose she has _some _skill."

"Guess so." Miles shrugged noncommittally. "Either way, the drones have been deployed and they're ambushing the remaining aggressors by the borders. They should be returning in a few more hours. By then they should have wiped away any remaining alchemists or soldiers alike who were foolish enough to linger in the open."

"Excellent!" She exclaimed, a rare, happy, smile gracing her face. Miles stared at the smile for a second before snapping his eyes away and pretending he had never seen it in the first place. It was rare to see the ice queen as carefree and jubilant as she was in those few seconds – most expected to see a severe and cold woman twenty four seven. However, Miles was her precious adviser: he had seen a fair share of her less used emotions such as happiness or warmth.

"About Full Metal," Miles began again. "I have sent a notice to Brigadier Mustang. He'll be sending a vehicle over to pick them up and return them to Central HQ. They should be arriving by tomorrow evening, at the latest."

"Hmm, so soon?"

He rose a brow at her tone. "Is something wrong, ma'am...?"

"We might be able to use the red runt for our advantage." Olivier explained boredly. "The drones might be one of this century's latest technological breakthrough's but even they are flawed. They will not be able to eliminate all of the alchemists who know how to wield their power. The runts own skill as well as his brothers, combined, will give us the necessary push to eliminate any remaining Drachma filth on our territory."

"Should I repeal the order?"

"No." Armstrong shrugged rather carelessly. "We'll just make them wait here for the time being." She chuckled darkly, fingers tapping predatorily on her desk.

Miles inwardly sighed at her theatrics. It became obvious to him that the woman wanted to extract a little revenge on Mustang's troops by allowing them stay in the icy land of Briggs; no doubt freezing and a little more than starved should they refuse to work for their meal like she no-doubt intended them to. "I'll go alert them both just in case."

"Oh, and Miles?"

"Yes?"

"When you see the runt, tell him to look in the bedside drawer when he has a few hours to spare." Olivier finished with a slick, feline, smirk.

Miles rose a brow but said nothing more, exiting the office and leaving the General to contemplate the outcome of the war by herself.

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He could hear Alphonse and his son play in the room next door. The walls, despite their solid, strong, appearance, seemed to be paper-thin as he could clearly hear Al's laughter and his son's enthusiastic responses from his spot on the bed.

A shift drifted his attention back to the woman cuddled on his chest, eyes closed and breathing even. The humorous thing about the north was that the day was almost always the same as the night in this season. He was convinced that it was around five in the morning but he wouldn't really know – the outside looked just the same as it did when they had come: a spread of clean white with beautiful mountaintops that loomed at the fringes, reflecting a dim daylight in the sky.

The sleeping chambers were frigid. He was sure the only reason Al and Eddie were able to withstand the cold was because one was used to the biting chill and the other was covered up to his nose in thick, winter, clothing that had been given to him by a severe Briggs soldier. Alphonse had alchemized the coat to fit the small body of the boy. The extra material only served to insulate the little boy more, too, which was a bonus as he cracked a smile at the squeal he heard from Eddie in the adjacent room.

He would agree with Winry on one small aspect: sometimes Eddie reminded him of Alphonse. He was more timid and shy than how he was when he was younger. He had been wild, reckless and thirsty for adventure while Alphonse had always been more reserved; the observant type that one should look out for. Eddie seemed to fit into that category although once he shed his shyness he was a ball of unrestrained energy – far more playful and less devious than how he was as he heard Eddie politely thank Alphonse for giving him the a colored pencil.

He snorted softly.

He would have snatched it from his hand and ignored him right afterward.

They were certainly different despite their physical similarities.

It only proved to make him want to learn more about his child as a knock sounded on his door.

He carefully sat up, making sure not to disturb the sleeping blonde. She groaned softly, cracking one eye open before shutting it again and moving off of him quietly; slumping back into the warm pillows and sighing in content as she slipped into unconsciousness once more.

He gave her one small smile before moving to the door, yawning as he opened it to face Major Miles. The severe quarter-Ishvalan nodded in greeting, his hands clasped behind his back professionally as he delivered his news.

"Brigadier Mustang will be sending someone to come retrieve you from Briggs tomorrow. I suggest you all get ready as the General won't take further delays." Miles sighed, knowing that if all did go as planned and there were no flaring issues by tomorrow evening, she would allow the group to leave peacefully.

"We're leaving tomorrow?" Ed muttered to himself in surprise. He thought they'd spend at least a few days cooped up in the guest chambers before news reached Mustang. He had underestimated their communication methods. "Are we winning?" He asked, knowing that Miles knew exactly what he was talking about.

He smirked in return. "Lets just say it's not looking very good for the enemy." He motioned inside, to the nightstand he could barely see from his position. "By the way, the General asked me to relay this message: 'check the drawer in your nightstand when you have a few hours to spare'."

"The drawer?" Ed asked, confused. "What for?"

"Who knows?" Miles mused, with an innocent shrug of his shoulders although Edward saw the edge of amusement revealed in his smile and next words: "Just check. I'm sure it's nothing bad. Have a good nights rest, Major."

"Major? Hey, I'm actually still a Major?" Ed called out, resisting a cringe since he hoped to be able to defect from the military after this dangerous assignment.

"Of course." Miles replied primly. "I believe you're due for a promotion, however. General Armstrong will push for it – the first man to become Colonel at the age of twenty... She would do anything to humiliate Brigadier Mustang." Miles recalled that Mustang had been the first in a while to be promoted Colonel at such a young age. If Edward actually managed to gain a promotion and continue serving in the military, he would take that spot easily.

"Do you think they'll hold it against me if I reject the promotion?" Ed asked, dryly.

"Perhaps." He shrugged. "I would advise you take it, though. You have a family to look after."

Edward's fingers dug into the frame of the door. A brow creased, showing his inner conflict, before he responded with a weary: "Yeah, thanks for the advice..."

"I'll send someone to come and get you when they're here," Miles nodded, walking out of the dim halls of the guest chambers and letting the twin doors shut with an echoing boom. Edward slipped back into his room, closing the door and turning back to Winry.

She was awake now, drowsily gazing at him.

"Brigadier Mustang is going to send someone to pick us up?" She asked, with a small yawn. She had only been asleep for a few hours. After their definite reconciling embrace, she had grown drowsy in his arms and he had suggested she go to sleep but she had been reluctant to let him go so soon.

Needless to say, she was pleased when he allowed her to drag him onto the comfy bed so she could use him as a pillow for a few hours. She was sure he had fallen asleep with her, since the doors creaked open and her sons giggles roused her awake a few hours ago, but she had fallen asleep right afterward so she could not be sure anymore...

"Yeah." Edward affirmed, looking disgruntled. "I guess we're going to Central City next. That's probably the best place to be at the moment. The drones, apparently, took care of most of the soldiers out by the fronts..." He didn't want to think just how far in those planes had reached Drachma... how many people would be end up being collateral—

He swallowed and pushed those thoughts away.

Winry lowered her eyes at his words. Those brilliantly created planes would decimate the unfortunate soldiers that had been standing at pause by the fronts, in the open no doubt since they had no knowledge of this piece of technology. She wondered if this meant they would be able to mobilize again, commence the fighting once more even if the enemies resources were at an all-time low and it was no longer proportional.

_If it was _ever_ proportional. _She thought, dismally. "It's been five years already," she whispered. "How much longer will this go on?"

"Until someone surrenders or we manage to win." Ed shrugged, not really caring at this point. "Amestris is holding up fair enough against the threat. However, the Fuhrer isn't anywhere near offering an armistice to end it. In fact, I believe that if this goes on for a few more weeks, he'll be sending out another draft."

"Draft?" She repeated, apprehensively.

"It's just an assumption." Edward assured although he sounded convinced they would. Winry gripped the sheets, knowing that if a draft was executed, Edward had a chance of being reinstated into the war. "Mustang has all of this planned out. Damn bastard is milking this opportunity for all its worth," he mumbled frustratingly.

"Why would you say that?"

"The Fuhrer's gettin' old so Mustang's showing off to get the chair all to himself" Ed flatly stated. "Right now the only ones who're vying for it, and actually have a chance at being appointed, are General Armstrong and Mustang. The rest are basically wasting their time." He shrugged. "I'm voting for Mustang!" He blandly stated, sounding like he _really _didn't want to.

Winry felt her lips curve into a smile. "You don't look so happy about that."

"I'm not!" He whined. "But I think it's better to have a morally bankrupt ass than a sadistic beast from the north!"

"General Armstrong isn't so bad!" Winry defended, having heard a lot of good things about her from the soldiers who worked within Briggs. "She's just a little rough around the edges!"

Edward snorted derisively. "Say's you!" He crawled onto the bed, letting himself fall beside Winry. "She's worse than Teacher! She's a wolf in sheep skin! Don't let the fact that she's a woman fool you. She's merciless." He shuddered, remembering the dark gleam in her eyes the first time he met her. Now _she_ was a woman he would gladly cower to lest she release a barrage of pain in his direction...

Or make him scrape icicles from the ceiling.

_But now I'm tall enough to reach! HA! _Ed smugly thought. But the idea of having one of those things fall on him still made him wary. His luck had to run out sometime, right?

"You're so melodramatic." Winry rolled her eyes, leaning over to wrap an arm around him. He paused for a moment, trying to remember the last time she had _ever _done that, and discovered it to be nearly five years ago. He had forgotten how nice it was to hold her, as his arm wrapped over her shoulder slowly in response.

It had been far too long.

"Oh, yeah!" Ed remembered, glancing at the nightstand. "Major Miles told me to look in the drawer..." He shifted then frowned when she didn't move. "Winry, get out of the way!"

"Just go over me," she mumbled, eyes already heavy.

Ed scowled. "Stop being so damn lazy and move it!"

"You're such a baby! Just go over me!" She shot back, cracking one eye open to glare.

He rolled his eyes but did as she told him, going over her and reaching the edge; stretching a hand to grab the drawer knob. The inside was mostly empty, save for what seemed to be a small pocket book, which he discovered to be a night-time reading novel, and...

He paled and subsequently turned scarlet.

He slowly looked over at Winry, who had her back to him. Against his will, once again retaining his teenage awkwardness, he let his eyes trace down the curve of her waist. She had changed out of her previous clothes and was now in a pair of black pants with a white shirt. She was in casual wear, he noticed, and she had discarded the blue coat somewhere by the armchair. Childbirth had also only proved to make her more curvacious, her chest and hips thicker than he last remembered...

"You know what?" He mumbled, allowing his face to bury in the pillow, his hand still resting on the drawer's knob. "I think I'll just vote for Armstrong after all..." He reached into the drawer before he changed his mind, shoving the roll of condoms into his pocket as Winry looked over to him sleepily.

"Why? What made you change your mind?" She yawned, curiosity in her words and feeling a little confused by the mischievous twinkle in his gold eyes when he glanced at her.

"Nothing much." He discreetly smirked, rolling back and bringing her into his arms; face buried in the hollow of her neck while a spread of pink began to crawl over her face at the sudden contact. "She's just a people person."

He had more than a few hours to spare...

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"Sir, we're ready at your command!" The soldier notified, adjusting his snow goggles on his eyes as his commanding officer stared at the looming fortress of Briggs. His black eyes were trained on the Amestrians marching back and forth on the top, like ants, on the look out for intruders such as them so they could sound the alarms and initiate their own weapons to combat the enemy forces.

"How many?" He asked, voice gruff.

"A whole squadron, sir."

"Good." He nodded, movement behind him ceasing as the squadron stiffly readied themselves to attack on his signal. He had sent out orders via radio for a squadron of the best alchemists Drachma still had within their walls – knowing fairly well that the disastrous drones Briggs had been too kind in letting out had decimated nearly all of their remaining soldiers when they had gone over them.

The war was starting to see a victor.

Isaac just wanted to see Edward Elric's cold, dead, eyes staring back at him.

He just wanted to get rid of all the traitors who had tricked him – Alphonse Elric – and the captive who had managed to flee from his iron grasp – Winry Rockbell – and perhaps the child of the man he would personally see to his end – Edward Rockbell...

He would kill them all or die trying before the day saw it's end.

_If it ever does. _He grinned darkly, aware that the days stretched out longer during the season. He had plenty of time to spare. "Move out!" he hissed, starting forward in the thick snow. "Infiltrate immediately – go!"

"Sir!" A few soldiers shouted, running ahead of him. His eyes caught the array of symbols in their palms; the intense blue glow as they used their skill to raise a dust of white before continuing their infiltration. He continued walking, the rest following behind him guardedly, and only smirked smugly when he heard the tell-tale signs of an explosion up ahead.

His own hands clenched in anticipation. He was sure Edward would know his ability by now – the way he used sonic sound waves against his opponent by executing acute explosions. It was a simple after-effect he used to his advantage, as an alarm sang and the Briggs troops mobilized for a counterattack hastily.

_Not quite._

"Move ahead." He instructed sharply to the rest lagging behind him. "I want you to take out as many of those Brigg fuckers as you can. Don't hold back. That's an order."

"YES SIR!" They rushed past him, into the cloud of white that had yet to settle, and his eyes trained on the faint outline of the fort ahead. He was so close now, with every step, and an even larger grin stretched its way onto his face when he managed to see the nice, raw, hole his soldiers had created into the thick iron walls – the hole that gave him visual of the scurrying Briggs soldiers who were beginning to shoot at them.

"Pests." He sneered, raising his hands and concentrating, the symbols etched onto his palm glowing as he neared the fort, his hand pressing against the cold metal and sending ripples of electric energy coursing through the floor and walls.

Explosions sounded.

Screams became known.

He saw one Amestrian soldier hold his ears, eyes screwed in pain as the sound burst his eardrums and caused them to bleed out. He would never be using those ears again.

He continued inside, unabated by the chaos, and detonated necessary explosions when Brigg soldiers began to clot the halls. His ears rang from the gunshots that sounded all around him but he was pleased to see the alchemists they had trained were holding up well against the normal soldiers. He could see them winning and he wondered why his superior hadn't let him do this before – it would have been much easier to take down the Fort and everyone inside hostage if they had only gone with this confrontation strategy

Once the Fort was down, the victory would be theirs.

At least it would have, he darkly mused, if they had _done _it before. His superiors were fools but he didn't necessarily care about that anymore. Something else had won the scorn from his losing country and it was in the shape of the blond haired alchemist who caused him more grief and had wasted more of his time than he liked. Not only that, he had once made him out to be a fool and he would not take that.

_Here he comes now. _Isaac smirked, stopping as Edward raced down the hall in a panic. The man caught sight of him and froze, disbelief etched on his face as Isaac prepared a deadly attack. "Miss me, Major?" He sneered and let loose a barrage of explosions that had Edward running the opposite direction frantically, his fingers plugging his ears against the deafening sound that threatened to mute noise for him.

_How did he get inside? _He rushed inwardly, gritting his teeth as another alchemical wave nearly caused him to trip. _How the FUCK did this happen? _He had managed to put Armstrong's 'bribes', as he liked to call them, into good use and all had seemed calm but now he was running for his life without having gotten his second lay due to his untimely attack.

_He could've waited another hour! _He sourly thought, pivoting on his heel and slapping a hand against the wall; making it collapse to momentarily stun the approaching officer. _But now I guess I'll have to wait. Damn. _"General!" Edward panted, shocked to see the woman near him briskly. "Go back the other way! You can't go—!"

"Don't you dare give me orders, you runt!" Armstrong snapped, stopping with her hand resting on her sheath. "What is the situation?"

Ed clenched his jaw. "Isaac. He was my commanding officer back when I was undercover and he's got some beef with me. He's an alchemist – his explosions break past the sound barrier and can deafen you if you don't watch yourself!"

"Alchemist?" Olivier muttered, icy eyes narrowing in distaste. "There are more, right?"

"I wouldn't put it past him." Ed agreed. "I bet he sent out an order to retrieve more alchemists in order to break into Briggs. I'm guessing around ten or so since the rest got deployed..."

"Well, he'll have to bring a hell of a lot more than just ten if he wishes to actually take down Briggs!" Olivier's nostrils flared, her eyes flashing with rage as she started past Ed.

"I...don't think that was his intention." Edward quietly corrected, staring at the ground.

Armstrong surveyed him silently. "What are you hiding." It was a demand.

"I'm not hiding anything," he muttered irately, annoyed by her suspicious ways. "I told you already – he's got a grudge against me. I met him before I went undercover after we came back from Xing," he explained, remembering the encounter before he managed to disguise himself as someone else. It wasn't a very good first impression. "I smart mouthed him and it didn't go down so well..." He trailed, editing out the punch he had delivered when Isaac called him an unsightly name and mentioned his height compared to his, he cringed, _taller _youngerbrother.

But only by an _inch, _which he had now managed to surpass!

Kind of. They were even and it suited Edward just fine for the moment.

"Humph." Olivier scoffed. "That should teach you to hold your tongue, brat."

"Maybe." He responded noncommittally. "Or not."

The collapsed wall that blocked the hall exploded, sending chunks of brick and iron flying towards them. "GENERAL!" Ed shouted in alarm, slamming his hands against the ground and raising a wall to block some of the debris; grimacing when a piece hit his skull and left a bloody trail in its wake. "General, are you okay? General!"

"I'm fine!" She coughed, waving off the dust in annoyance. "Stop wasting your time on my welfare and attack, you imbecile!" She snapped, making him roll his eyes. That was the last time he tried to do something _nice_ for her...

"Stop hiding, Full Metal." Isaac's icy voice came from in front of him. "Come out here and fight me like the puny man you are!"

"P-puny?" He spluttered, eyes flashing with outrage. He leaped out from behind the crude wall, growling: "Who're you callin' puny, pal! The only puny one I see here is _you_!"

"Fight!" Isaac snarled, running forward and tackling Ed to the ground. He lost his breath for a moment, the fist Isaac had thrust into his diaphragm making his lungs crush as he tried to inhale, but he regained his senses after another fierce punch to his gut.

He tore his fingers through Isaac's coat, clutching it as he violently swung him off of him. General Armstrong retreated calmly, her sharp eyes following the battle silently as Ed fisted his hand and let it slam into the man's face.

He returned the attack with a spread palm; intent on grabbing his head and imploding it when Ed ducked out of the way and plugged his ears as his hand touched concrete instead, the explosion blowing him forward and into Isaac. Edward rolled out of the way, shaky as he had had a flashback to Scar and his own destructive arm that nearly killed him as well.

_This...brings back really bad memories. _He wryly thought, gasping and avoiding a rough kick aimed at him.

"Finish him off!" Armstrong commanded, strongly. "You have him where you want him – hurry!"

"But—!"

"DO IT!"

"I can't!" Edward shouted, shaking his head, dodging another blow from the enraged man in front of him. "I can't kill him!"

"And why not?" Olivier hissed, patience at its limit. She needed to see just what the damage was out by the front although she was not too worried as she knew Miles was at the scene and no doubt handling things well. Her eyes strayed to the clogged hall. She would have to wait for the brat to finish the fight if she wanted to get through – the chunks of rock and metal were not going to budge and she did not have the patience or time to be hauling them out of her way one by one.

"I don't do killing!" He yelled, ducking. "It's not my thing!"

"I command you to kill him!" Olivier snarled, frustratedly. "That's an order, you runt!"

"Ngh!" Ed whined in indecision, quickly running from Isaac to create distance. "Sorry, General, but I can't follow that order! I made a promise to myself that I would never kill a person and I plan to abide to it even if it kills _me_!"

_Stupid brat and his stupid morals. What does he think this is, a game? _She thought, irritated beyond belief. He was wasting time. There was no need for such a drawn out battle in the first place, she rationalized, but she supposed that if you were not aiming to kill, fights tended to last longer than they were meant to.

"It will be disheartening to see such a good soldier go to waste." Isaac hissed scornfully, clenching his hand as Edward rose his own in defense. "I plan to make you regret ever making that oath."

"We'll see about that!" Ed answered, about to lunge when the glint of a blade make him stutter to a stop. His stomach rolled, face draining of color when Armstrong stormed forward unexpectedly; impaling her impossibly sharp blade into Isaac's shoulder – blood spraying as she sunk the blade deeper, face wiped of any compassion, and she raised her booted foot to push him off the sword as easily as she had slipped it into his body.

It took nothing at all to finish him off.

Edward watched Isaac hit the floor in a tumble; release a choked scream as his hand clutched his torn shoulder. The blood was crimson, so red it made his eyes hurt, and it pooled around the dirty floor the more he writhed.

His favourite color...splattered all over the floor – all over _himself, _he noticed with a sharp gasp.

"He won't survive much longer." Olivier coldly informed. "I've punctured straight through to his lung."

Edward said nothing. He swallowed despite himself, suddenly aware of how dangerous the General actually was and just how well she lived up to the title of Ice Queen. She had not even flinched when he gurgled blood and Edward was already feeling nauseous at the sight of a dying man.

"Unblock the hall." Olivier commanded, wiping the bloody blade on her pants. "I must go see the damage these fools created in my Fort."

He silently cleared the hall, avoiding the man who was slowly bleeding to death on the floor. Against himself, he asked: "..Why didn't you finish him off? Are you just going to leave him like this?" He rose accusing eyes.

Armstrong didn't even flinch at his harsh tone. "He has wasted too much of my time. If he was intent on defeating you then he should have done it ages ago. He was not prepared and, as such, he has become another number to the Rule."

Ed sneered. "Don't bring your 'rule' into this."

Olivier smirked, eyes frosting over. "The Law of the North accounts for his death. He foolishly barged into my Fort and recklessly wasted his own pawns for the sake of killing someone as insignificant as _you_. Drachmian's know no bounds when it comes to idiocy, it seems." She sneered right back, flickering blue eyes to Isaac's still form. "It doesn't matter – it makes my job less difficult when they act like this."

Ed dropped his eyes in his response to her cold words. His fists clenched tightly.

"You're a fool, too." She continued, making him raise his head again. "Not killing because you made a promise to yourself? How childish can you _get_! You have a child to take care of and yet you still retain such an immature mentality? Are you willing to _die_ just so your soul won't be tainted by murder?" She bellowed, livid. "Get over yourself. Look at this country and get with with the program! If you do not kill, you will _die_. You will leave _everything_ behind: your lover, your child, your brother. Sometimes you must sacrifice yourself for the sake of others!" She harshly told him, staring into the pained eyes of Edward. "It's a selfish thought to refrain from doing what your most primal instincts tell you under such pressurized circumstances simply because you want to keep your naivete!"

Gunshots echoed down the cleared hall.

They were drawing closer to them.

Edward could almost hear the bodies dropping, the life fading from their eyes.

"Grow up." She finished with a sneer. "You will see that life is much easier when you let go of such beliefs," she sardonically added.

He didn't reply to her reprimand. He recalled how grief-stricken but relieved Winry had been when she discovered he was alive – how she had denied it because the pain of losing him had been much too intense for her to handle. He was unable to compose a response to the General's harsh reality check because nothing he would say could work.

She was right: he had a son, he had Winry and his brother to live for. He couldn't be clinging onto a promise he made when he was twelve anymore because the adults way of life prevented such a childish oath to pull through.

He had to make a decision.

He needed to remember that before, when everything was intense but less dangerous, he had other people watching out for him. He was a kid with too much time on his hands, too much knowledge in his head, and a stubbornness that rivaled a bull. But now he was an adult and now he had no one looking over him except himself.

There would be no adult who would tarnish their hands for his cause again.

Now _he_ had to be that adult.

"Behind you." Olivier calmly alerted, watching Edward's eyes widen when he grasped her words. The back of his neck prickled terrifyingly. He felt a cold spell wash through his body at the bloody spit that splashed by his shoes and his hands shook by his side. He could feel him drawing closer, he could feel his time slip through his fingers like sand, and he swiveled around to meet with the blade – a dagger all Drachmian soldiers received along with their uniform.

"_Sometimes you must sacrifice yourself for the sake of others."_

His own hand flashed behind him, to the belt which also held a blade as his uniform demanded it. He slipped it out, felt the heartless weight of it, his intentions clear when the glint of a metal blade flashed past him. His hands shook, the hilt of his own knife held tightly between snow-white palms; throat tight as Isaac's own blade veered off course and slit his arm instead.

But he didn't pay attention to that.

His own blade had sunk into the man's shoulder – missing its target, which had been his throat, he thought with something close to self-disgust.

A spurt of blood was coughed and Ed flinched back violently, unable to take just how warm and _alive _the blood felt as it trickled down his cheeks. He backed away from Isaac in a flash, a strangled sound coming from his throat when he hit the floor; _her _blade sinking deeper into his chest. There was no doubt about it this time around, he realized, he was dead.

And he had _helped _– he had been willing even though Armstrong had been the one to deliver the final blow...

He didn't know he was shaking so badly until a hand clasped on his shoulder. He slowly looked up at Olivier, who's eyes had become considerably softer once they saw just how shaken up and terrified he was. She remembered when she had been like that, too; harboring an impossible amount of guilt in her soul because she had taken a life. But she had saved him from completely frosting over, she thought to herself, since all he needed at the moment was a reality check to keep him from committing stupid mistakes in the future.

"Sometimes there isn't a choice, Edward." She said, using his name for the first time. He didn't react to it. "It is you or it is your enemy. You must remember that killing in defense does not necessarily qualify as murder."

"But it _is_ murder." He whispered, thickly.

"Would you rather he kill you?" Armstrong proposed. "And then killed your son? And then your brother? And your lover?" She continued, not batting an eye when his face broke into pain. "Because that is what would have happened. He held a scorn for you – he would have made them suffer."

"But...there were other _ways_..."

"Like?"

Ed screwed his eyes shut, digging some fingers into his skull as he tried to understand what he had nearly _done_. He silently thanked Armstrong that she had taken his life and not him but the weight of nearly being the one _to_ do it was almost as bad as if he had done it himself.

Almost.

He knew actually doing it would have been worse.

"I know you must be shocked by your actions." She calmly continued. "It is times like these that you appreciate the people around you as well as your life. That Drachmian filth has murdered countless others – you should consider this an end to that reign of terror." She morbidly humored, a slight smile tugging her lips. "You did well. Don't put yourself too much, brat."

"Yeah," he hoarsely replied.

"Brother! Brother – I locked Winry in the room just like you—!" Al stopped short, alarm rising when he saw his brothers shaking shoulders. "General Armstrong?" He whispered in question, rushing forward as the woman stepped back to allow him to take care of Ed, who still hadn't stopped staring at the floor.

Al followed his gaze and gasped when he recognized the lifeless body. Then he noticed the brutal scene, the pools and streams of blood that gathered around his feet.

"He needs a few moments to himself." Armstrong informed casually. "He's just had his first real taste of being an adult. Now, if you excuse me, I have to see to my own problems." She stalked down the hall purposefully, aware of the two brothers behind her – one who still retained his innocence and one who's innocence had been removed and replaced with the stains of adulthood.

"Brother, what's wrong?" Al asked, urgently. "Ed!"

"Alphonse," he whispered, tearing his gaze from the puddle of blood. "Where's Winry?"

Al furrowed his brows. "She's in the room all the way toward the end of the hall, just like you told me to put her."

"Are you sure no one can access that hall without coming through here first?" He asked, straightening up; desperate to ignore the debilitating emotion that had lodged itself in his throat.

"Yes, but what happened here?" Al asked, quickly glancing at Isaac. "Ed, who...?"

"She did." He paused. He couldn't hide these things from him. "We both did." His eyes strayed to the blade stuck in the man's arm, knowing Al recognized the blade as well.

"Edward..." Al whispered, shakily. "You...killed..."

"_No_... I didn't manage to kill him but I almost did!" He shouted albeit emptily. "Armstrong...she's right. I can't keep holding onto the promise I made when I was teenager. This is war, Al, and there's no way I can keep that promise without jeopardizing other peoples lives." He closed his eyes, feeling his emotions start to settle the longer he deliberated; his brothers hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "I'm not going to _die _just because I told myself I wouldn't kill someone." His voice darkened, eyes tinting with a black that would never be removed; not for long, long time. "That bastard has killed more people than we could count. I can justify my actions as necessary." He coldly stated, turning away from his silent sibling. "Let's go – we have to help out – !"

"You know that's not true," Al whispered, regretful. He had not killed him, thankfully, but the startling revealation that he _would have _was enough to make him fear for his brother. The idea of taking life did not settle well with the younger Elric - not at all. And the idea of his brother actually having a hand in _killing _made the contents of his stomach roll. "Isaac might've killed a lot of people but it doesn't make _you_ any better than him."

"What did you want me to do, Al?" Ed hissed suddenly, turning to face him. "Did you want me to just _let him stab me_?" He thundered, not giving him time to respond. "Well, I'm not going to die! Not yet! I'm not going to leave Winry again! I refuse to let my son grow up without a father just because I was too damn _stupid_ to let go of my missed childhood!"

"But – look at him!" Al shouted, pointing to the bloody carcase. "You didn't have to completely mutilate him!"

"I didn't _do_ that! I'm not a heartless monster! Besides, I _didn't_ even kill him, remember?" He snarled, furiously. "Fucking Armstrong did it." He turned away, fists clenched in scorn. "She did it on purpose." His shoulders slumped in resignation. He didn't know whether to thank or curse her yet. "She...could have easily killed him but I think she let him live a while longer so I could see the error in my ways."

Al set his jaw, his own eyes stinging at the vulnerability in his brothers tone.

"She said that sometimes people need to sacrifice themselves for the people they love," he continued, willing himself to accept this new ideal; however wrong it sounded to him. But in these situations it was all he had left. "I- I'm willing to tarnish my name a bit if it means being able to stay with my family a little bit longer..."

He felt Al roughly embrace him from behind, his fingers digging into his skin as he choked in a dry sob. He dropped his chin to his chest, opened weary gold eyes to the ground as his brother softly whispered his understanding and told him he forgave him.

_As long he doesn't push me away, _Edward thought, allowing a weak smile to brief his face when his brother laughed thickly and said he hadn't really grown up at all if these things still made him cry. _I can keep going. _

* * *

_**A/N: **_I know I haven't updated since a while ago but school has been taking up most of my time so fanfiction shall be put second for now. I write every now and then when I have time but overall it's gonna' be a while before I update, or to be brutually honest (well, to me it is!), touch Open Office at all. But I won't abandon the story so you guys can comfort yourselves with that XD

Review!

_Scarlett._


	9. Deliverance

**Wanderlust  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

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**Chapter 9: **Deliverance

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Riza Hawkeye hid behind the wall, setting her jaw when more gun shots resounded in the broad hall. She could hear them puncture through the wall, shoot through bodies which fell with howls of pain, and she tightened her grip on her gun at being able to do nothing else but wait for them to cease fire.

She wiped a hand under her nose, splatting the blood on the floor when she shook it off.

It was a dangerous situation and she knew full well, from both experience and expertise, that recklessly lunging into the fray would only prove to wound her or worse. She was aware that the criminals shooting hardly missed, if the thump of bodies and screams told her anything, and she only felt more grave at the situation they had purposely provoked.

A shot rang too close to her head.

She cursed and lifted her own gun closer to her.

She needed to time this right before anyone else got hurt.

It had started off as a normal morning for her. She had woken up, stretched like a cat in her bed, groggily made her way to the shower and took care of her morning necessities. She had gotten dressed, zipped up her military blue coat and laced on her standard military boots as per usual; clipping her growing hair back and sticking her reading glasses into her coats front pocket for easy access.

She had just finished reviewing over some property damage paperwork the Brigadier had neglected to do and she had slept very late due to it. She didn't mind doing the work – it offered something to _do _instead of listening to vast silence in her apartment or staring at her ceiling since she had nothing else to do after work.

She had made it to Central Command punctually, as always, and had managed to drop off the paperwork in the Brigadier's office – scolding him and making fun of him as usual before she said she would go get a cup of coffee: something that _was_ usual for her. But she had felt so _tired, _like she needed an extra five hours of sleep, and Roy had been aware of her uncharacteristic exhaustion since the concerned gaze that followed her out was impossible to ignore.

"Riza?" he had called, before she closed the door behind her.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you're alright? You look tired."

"I'm fine, sir. I just need a cup of coffee." She had smiled over her shoulder, causing his own lips to upturn the slightest bit.

"Hey, Hawkeye, mind grabbing me a cup while you're at it?" Havoc had pipped, hopefully.

"You have to two functioning legs – _you_ get it." She flatly told him, remembering her irritation at being awake at such (in her opinion) ungodly hours of the morning, and ignored his whine as she shut the door firmly behind her.

It wasn't everyday the Brigadier showed her honest affection like that – their friendship was still on the rocks given the Fraternization Act which prevented any type of relationship within the military or barracks. And she was one to abide to those acts and laws; he would know, she had shot down his offers for dates more times than she could bother to count.

But it had been when she had gotten her coffee that things spun out of control.

She had only taken a sip when a hand lashed out and gripped her neck, the cup crashing to the floor and splashing scalding coffee all over her pants. A hiss and choked scream later, she had a gun pressed up on her temple with a voice viciously telling her this would be the last time she _ever _gave him an order.

She had managed to avoid the shot, tackling him to the counter and punching him in the jaw before she reached into her coat to pull out her gun. But her coat had been _buttoned. _The damn thing had been _buttoned _and she couldn't stretch time out enough to unbutton it and take out her blasted gun!

"Why you—!" The man had growled, as she tried to desperately grab the knife she kept in her belt. He had gripped her by the hair by then and rammed her face into the counter, blood gushing as her lip split and her nose fractured.

"I'll kill you and that bastard Roy Mustang!" He spat, about to ram her into the counter again.

She had grunted and twisted out, screaming when a fistful of hair was ripped from her skull. She stumbled back, touching her skull and noticing with some relief that it was still in tact. Her scalp only burned from having hair forced out by the roots—

"Get back here, you bitch!" He had snarled, lunging for her.

"State your name!" Riza shouted, dodging his blow. She dealt with too many soldiers; they all looked alike after some point. "Answer me, now!"

"Me?" He snorted derisively. "I'm just another soldier trying to make a living in this blood-raised country!"

Her eyes narrowed sharply. No Amestrian would utter such words, even if they did have a grudge against her or Roy. The answer came to her instantly. "Are you Drachmian?"

He smirked. "Perhaps."

She had pressed her lips together at that and gasped when he rose his gun and shot four times. She managed to dodge all four and fly out into the hall, glad that it was empty but cursing when she saw a round of soldiers sprint down the hall at the sound of gunfire.

The attacker had walked out of the lounge with purposeful steps, whistling loudly.

Riza didn't need to turn to know that his friends had come out from hiding to back him up.

"TAKE COVER!" She commanded, swearing when a bullet skimmed her thigh. She had slid to a stop around a corner, shutting her eyes at their _stupidity _for disobeying direct orders. Only a few followed her around the corner – the rest had barged in without thought, making her realize they were the newbies who had been sent from the East to Central for office duty. Obviously they had not been properly trained and Riza had the suspicion the Eastern Command officers expected them to train the new soldiers in obedience, something that, in those critical moments, sounded utterly ridiculous and irresponsible.

She could hear them get shot down one by one and her heart threatened to burst in her chest.

They didn't deserve to die in vain like that.

"Ma'am, what now?" One soldier, who had heeded her command, asked, breathing hard. "There's at least ten of them! What do they think they're doing?"

"We have to wait." She breathed in a controlled breath. "There are too many of them – there's absolutely no way we would be able to take them all down by ourselves. We'll have to bid our time."

"Yes, ma'am..."

That was what found her in her current dilemma – nose broken, lip bleeding, heart racing – and she thought things could not get any worse than they already were until she heard Havoc cry something out distantly.

_Havoc? _She thought, paling. _If Havoc is here then—! _Sure enough, when she took a risk and peeked around the corner, she saw Havoc and Mustang standing at the far-end of the hall; one with his gun out and ready to shoot and the other only pulling on his flint gloves casually.

"Roy Mustang." The undercover Drachmian that had attacked her spat. A few more of his lackeys stood behind him, two pointing guns at Havoc and Roy and the rest keeping vigilance on her own men. "Good, you came. You saved me the trouble of going out looking for you!"

Roy's eyes scanned the litter of bodies quickly and his eyes locked on hers at the far end. His shoulders visibly relaxed and she saw a cocky smirk crawl on his face. She wanted to smack it right off – it was that type of arrogance that nearly got him killed him every single time!

"Ma'am?" The same soldier whispered.

"Mobilize." She murmured, eyes trained on Roy. He nodded and went ahead to alert the rest.

"I apologize for making this too easy on you," Mustang replied, sarcastically, "but I'm afraid that you won't be getting any farther than you already have."

"That's what you think! I've already got you right where I want you, Mustang." The Drachmian sneered. He rose his gun and she saw Havoc raise his to shoot in return when the Drachmian aimed at the pipes lining the ceiling instead.

Havoc blinked, Mustang quirked a brow, and Riza swore as it all clicked in her mind.

"That's the water pipe—!" She began to shout. She sighed and rubbed her temples when her voice was drowned in the burst of water. This was spinning out of control far too quickly. It was just her luck she still felt too tried to do much.

Water rained down on the two men and she briefly saw Mustang gawk at the Drachmian who was smirking far too widely for his own good.

"You can't use your flame alchemy now, can you, _sir_?"

"Damn it, not again!" She vaguely heard Roy whine.

She shouted when the spy dodged Havoc's fierce shots and released a barrage of his own – nicking the blond on the cheek and managing to throw him off balance due to it. Havoc recovered fairly fast and instead of shooting at the leader, shot at the two men behind him in the legs.

The leader snarled and aimed at Roy.

She saw Mustang flash his eyes to him and a cold feeling spread through her stomach at what was to come.

"NO!" She screamed, throwing caution to the wind and running toward the solider. A few shots rang, her own men following behind her and covering her, but her eyes were locked on the leader that threatened to kill Roy. He couldn't kill Roy – Roy had to live. He had to become Fuhrer; he had to change the world; _she promised to watch his back. _

He couldn't die.

Rational thought went down the drain as she pressed her finger against the trigger, shooting him and effectively distracting him from Mustang. She tackled him fiercely, locking an arm around his neck without a single shred of hesitation; her intentions clear. She yanked him back on her so he could shoot at the ceiling and not the precious man that stood before him. "SIR! GET _OUT_ OF HERE!" She nearly shrieked, managing to control her voice toward her end..

"R-Riza! What are you doing?" He stammared, shocked by her unusually rash behavior.

"HIDE, SIR! YOU'RE USELESS WITHOUT YOUR GLOVES!"

"U-useless?" Roy choked, a scowl now hanging on his face. "I am _not _useless! AND THESE ARE WATER-PROOF, FOR YOUR INFORMATION!"

Shots rang behind her.

Cries and thumps as well.

She really hoped those were the spies and not her men.

"ROY!" She snapped, driving his focus back to her as she held the leader in an unbreakable headlock. "STOP—!" A single shot rang the building still. Riza didn't even know what the bullet had hit until she felt something hot stream down her pants.

_I...forgot?_

She heard Roy scream something, Havoc shout her name in alarm, but she could only stare at the wall with wide, knowing, eyes as the hot blotch became bigger and bigger around her stomach.

_I forgot._

The leader caught by the neck in her weakening arms chuckled in triumph. "You forgot standard protocol, _ma'am._" The weapon dropped from the wound in her stomach. "You forgot to unarm me first before all."

Her gun, her best friend, the only thing that promised to keep her alive during the worst of times, had betrayed her.

It had betrayed her too _late_, she would say.

But it was better late than never, anyway.

She could have used this shot, this deadly blow, when she was in Ishval and she murdered all of those innocent people from her perch on the church towers. Her own little bird-nest, where she watched and shot, searched and shot, tracked down and shot.

She could have used the painful blast to her stomach when she looked through the scope and focused on her targets – men, women, young girls and young men – and shot and shot and shot and _saw _their bodies hit the floor, the blood explode into droplets like rain and their cries drown in the sound of her own gunshot.

It was different when you were a sniper – you _saw _them die.

When you were a soldier, aimless shooting saved you from the worst of the experience because you did not _see_ them die. You could never know who you shot and who you did not in the array of blinding colors and deafening noise.

It was different for her.

It had always been different for her.

"_Never forget their names." Kimblee sneered, cold black eyes fixing on her own haunted ones. "Because they will never forget YOU."_

_Is this how it felt? _She thought blankly, as blood coughed out of her mouth and drizzled down her neck. _Was this how they felt when I killed them? _The Drachmian soldier grinned in victory and pushed her off him, making her hit the floor with a force that drove the breath out of her lungs; made an acidic stitch course up her side and blind her for a split second.

"_RIZA!_" Roy roared, and she heard a snap, a succession of gun shots, and a column of flames shoot past her. The heat wasn't normal – it was too intense, too wild – but another harrowing scream blocked those thoughts as the stench of roasting, burning, human flesh reached her nostrils. The scream was silenced just as fast as it had begun and she had the hazy thought that perhaps she had imagined it all as she tried to lift herself up.

A fountain of blood spilled from her mouth.

Had the bullet shot straight through her or lodged somewhere?

She shook and choked more blood before dropping to her forearms.

It had probably lodged somewhere...

"Hawkeye! Don't sit up, Hawkeye—_Riza_!" His voice was cracked, too panicked, too _pained_. She hadn't heard his voice take on such tones since the Promised Day, when she had been used as bait for him to preform Human Transmutation. She was sure his eyes were also at their darkest shade, were also bursting with more emotion than they had showed in ten years strung together, and she had the briefest thought of _wanting _to see those eyes before the bullet finished its job.

"Roy..." She croaked, resisting a pathetic groan when he lifted her up in his arms. They were in the same position, she noted absently, as they were before: he was holding her close, she was a doll in his arms, his face was hovering over her; those eyes the same shade of coal as the night in its darkest hour. "Is he..?"

"Havoc shot him before I burned that bastard into ash." He whispered, his hand raising to cup her cheek; her pale cheek. His eyes traced the blood that dripped down her nose, the bloody teeth clenched together to keep in her cries, and he felt his gut churn at the thought of losing her_._ "Hawkeye, stay with me." He demanded, when he saw her eyes threaten to close. "That's an order! You stay with me! HAVOC!"

"ON IT, SIR!"

"An order?" She whispered weakly. She forced her eyes open, despite the pull that coaxed her otherwise. "I...have to..."

"Have to what?" Roy asked, desperate to keep her talking. "Riza?"

She parted her lips only to grit her teeth when another heave of blood threatened to drown her. She tossed her head to the side, spitting out sticky strings of hot blood. She felt his hand touch her cheek again, righting her head so her unfocused eyes could fix on his own.

"What do you have to do?" He asked her, shouting Havoc's name even harsher over his shoulder as he could already see her going; could see too much blood pool by her and begin to flood. "Stay with me, Riza!"

"I have to obey..." She smiled a bit at his wide eyes. Silly man, did he honestly think she would go without a fight? "I...can't go now. You still need...someone..." She ground her teeth, shutting her eyes against a spasm of pain, "...to keep you in line!"

He laughed, harshly. "That's right, I still need you. We all still need you, so you don't you dare give up on me. Hawkeye? I said to _stay with me!_ Obey your orders!" He gripped her tight, wanted to crush her in his arms. "You can't go before me – I refuse to let you. You _can't_ go before me, damn it!"

"Sir! The stretchers here!"

"Hurry up!" He lifted her off her ground quickly, grimacing at the pain that crossed her face, and he rested her on the gurney gently. "As your superior, I demand you put her under Dr. Knox immediately!" He commanded icily, watching the doctors nod distantly and hastily feel her pulse; apply pressure on the wound as they rushed back down the hall – their orders and shouts fading as Havoc's hand kept him firmly in place.

"You can't go."

He violently tore his shoulder from his grasp. "Who are you to stop me, Second Lieutenant?" He bitterly growled.

"Your friend." Havoc replied patiently. "You have to stay behind and clean up this mess, anyway. You know that's what she would have wanted you to do."

He shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath to control the savage burn inside of him that urged him to follow her. She could be leaving him, she could be _leaving him_, and he had to clean up the mess a foolish, psychopathic, _Drachmian _created? He felt his balled fists shake.

He hadn't killed him.

Havoc had.

Once again, he had missed out on his chance to avenge the most precious people in his life and once again he felt that bitter resentment singe him; turn his insides into charcoal as that loathe exploded into a pit of flames too hot to cool.

He could only comfort himself in managing to burn his rotting corpse into ash.

"Brigadier Mustang, sir!" A soldier came up to him, saluting. "Awaiting orders, sir!"

Roy let his eyes stray back to the charred remains of the spy – or _spies_, as his flames had managed to consume another person. There was a column of black from where his flames had unleashed havoc and burned straight through the top two layers of marble; burning the elegant rug right off. The few bodies that littered around were bleeding out, creating an even bigger bloodshed than it really was.

He could see a few of the soldiers who had backed up Riza begin to pile up the bodies.

He could see some of his own men get sorted into a different pile by the wall while the spies were thrown against another.

Some of them were wounded.

A few of the medics who stayed behind were treating them.

But most of them were dead.

"Get a clean up crew in here." He wrinkled his nose at the smell of death that wafted toward him when a door opened from behind. "The investigation department can take care of this one – I'm not held responsible this time around."

"But, sir—!"

"Self-defense." Roy coldly replied, not caring how unprofessional it sounded coming from his mouth. He was too much of a mess with Riza currently in the hospital to care. "I have _that_ right at least." He marched through the throng of military men with Havoc trailing faithfully behind him, holding his cheek which still burned from the bullet skim.

"What now, sir?" Havoc asked, curiously. "That sure became a bloodbath faster than I could light a cigarette! Do you think it's because of the war?"

"I suppose, what else could it be?" Roy replied, demurely. "It's no secret that Amestris has won this war. There's no way Drachma would be able to keep up even if they _do _have alchemists at their disposal. They're under-trained and useless. We have technology on our side and house some of the best technicians ever seen."

"Fuery?" Havoc mused a loud.

"He wanted in with the Drone Project." Roy drawled, putting up a front of nonchalance to hide his shakiness. "But I handed him a different assignment. I believe he is still hacking through communications – he's the most apt one there, anyway. He's the reason we're so well-informed as of right now."

"That Drachmian guy.." Havoc began lowly, distracting the Brigadier from their current conversation. "He looked like he only had beef with you and Hawkeye."

"He probably did – I recognized him after a few seconds. He went by the name of Charles Robinson – a sergeant we received from the East. He was rather feisty so I had to train him a bit." He darkly continued. "You can say he didn't like being taught new tricks."

"So, I'm guessing you hurt his pride?" Havoc assumed, shuffling out a cigarette from his front pocket. Roy took notice and absently snapped his fingers, allowing him to light it with the flame he produced.

"Humiliated him in front his entire squad." Roy shrugged. "He behaved for a bit."

Havoc whistled lowly. "Guess that shows you not to treat people like animals, sir."

"No, it just teaches me how much they really _are _like savages."

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"I wanna' go with uncle Al!" Eddie whined loudly, struggling out of her arms. Winry grunted and tried to keep him in her lap but he stubbornly continued to twist and turn. "Uncle Al!" He whined, reaching for him as Alphonse buckled himself in the front.

"Sorry, Eddie, but you have to stay in the back with your mom and dad." Alphonse apologetically said, smiling a bit at the irate glint in his nephews eyes. "It's too dangerous for you to ride up here."

"Mommy!" Eddie whined.

"No, Ed, and that's final!" Winry firmly said. "You're going to sit here with me until we reach Central Command!"

Eddie groaned loudly, sinking in her arms broodingly.

"Eddie, listen to your mother." Ed mumbled absently, gazing out the window as the soldier who had drove from Central to North City pulled back the brake and began to slowly ease out of the front of the Fort. He could see General Armstrong stand straight and controlled by the entrance through the rear view mirror now, her icy blue eyes watching the car head down the shoveled out path that would lead them to North City.

Snow was falling softly. The cold was still bitter but it seemed warmer compared to yesterday.

However, the might've just been him.

The car shifted right and his eyes glimpsed the repaired wall in the Fort. He averted his gaze as the Fortress grew distant and camouflaged with the snow-soaked wind.

"Daddy...!" Eddie whined. "Daddy!" He snapped, irritated he was being ignored yet again.

"What is it, Eddie?" Ed murmured distractedly, turning to him a fraction. The subdued reaction was not missed by either Alphonse or Winry. One knew why and the other was still confused and angry about it. Winry watched her son reach for him, uttering a noise of impatience while at it, and she saw Edward reach out to him with his arm, a very faint smile tugging on his lips; lighting his dulled amber eyes the slightest bit.

She transferred the impatient boy to Edward and silently watched as he sat him on his lap with an arm around his stomach to keep him anchored. The little boy seemed less irritated now, as he sunk into his fathers chest and turned his head out the window to watch the falling snow rush by with curious eyes.

She did not know what had happened when Edward left her to heed the red alarm that had sounded throughout the Fort. He had only grabbed them both and shoved them out into the hallway, asking Al to settle them in the farthest room in the guest chambers while he went to go check out what was wrong.

It had only been two hours before they both came back – one looking thoroughly exhausted and the other emotionally spent.

They both refused to breath a word about what had happened aside from the obvious. She had tried, and failed, to get Edward to tell her _something._ Everytime she tried to, he receded deeper into himself and merely looked away from her requests. Whatever had happened had obviously affected him – he hadn't left her or Eddie's side the entire time.

Either way, he refused to tell her.

"_Edward?" She asked hesitantly, touching his shoulder and quickly retracting her hand when he flinched back. "What's wrong? What happened back there, Ed?"_

_He looked down at her, almost searchingly, before he shook his head and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers between hers instead. "It's not important right now." He said, her hand squeezing his in comfort. "General Armstrong told me we could leave as scheduled... or at least after we fix the mess we made." He weakly smiled._

_She pursed her lips. She knew what he was doing. This was one habit she hadn't missed from him all these years. "You'll tell me when you're ready, right?" _

_He dropped his gaze. "Winry, can you just drop it? It's not important right now."_

"_Damn it, Ed!" She tore her hand from his and set her hands on her hips in authority. "How do you expect for this to work out if you can't even trust me enough to tell me what the hell is the matter with you?"_

"_That has nothing to do with this!" He shouted, jaw clenched as if he were biting back more. She suddenly wanted him to continue speaking; to tell her everything he had to say. Perhaps he'd say something that would hint to what was wrong but he refused to say anything more._

"_It has everything to do with it!" She shouted right back. "Edward, if we're going to actually give this a try again then we're going to have to trust each other. You can't continue to keep secrets from me!"_

"_I think I'm allowed a little privacy, aren't I?" He scathingly replied._

"_Not when whatever happened out there has you like this!" Her voice softened to something close to concern. "Edward, ever since you came back you haven't been yourself. I'm worried..."_

"_Then stop worrying." He turned away from her, hiding his shadowed eyes. "I'm fine."_

"_You know that's not true. Ed..?"_

"_I said, I'm fine!" He snapped harshly. "It's nothing you should worry about right now!" He turned away from her and walked toward Alphonse, who had Eddie by his side and was holding his hand as he conversed with a fellow soldier by the end of the hall._

_Winry clenched her fists._

_They still had walls to knock down between them and she hated it more than anything else._

The car lurched and her head bumped against the glass, startling her out of her sleep. She could see the sky was dark now and the road they were driving through was rather isolated and empty. Her eyes strayed to Alphonse, who was sitting in seat with his arms crossed and eyes closed, and then to Edward and Eddie, who were quietly dozing with the younger of the two curled up in his chest comfortably.

The only one awake was she and the stoic military soldier who drove them to Central HQ.

She remembered a day just a few months back in her silent apartment when Riza had come to whisk her away to another location; another foreign place in order to assure her safety. It had been before she had been kidnapped, before she had been thrown into a whirlwind of danger and trauma, and everything was as normal as it could be without Edward and Alphonse...

"_You look tired." Riza commented with a weary smile. "Have you been putting off sleep for automail or should I assume Edward has taken up most of your time?"_

"_Eddie's a handful sometimes." Winry sighed, smile content. "But it's nothing I can't handle, Riza, don't worry."_

"_Mommy! Mommy! Look!" Eddie screeched, coming into the living room where the two women were sitting. He stalled when he saw Riza. He eyed her cautiously, the once-grin subdued into a small worried frown as he glanced between the women. "Sorry..." His mother had told him not to come out when people came over, which happened a lot. He had forgotten to check if she was alone in his excitement._

"_No, no, come here, Ed!" Winry motioned over, smiling encouragingly. "Do you remember Miss Riza?"_

_Eddie's eyes widened all of a sudden, twinkling excitedly again. "Miss Riza?" He snapped his head to Riza, who seemed to be suppressing a smile at his awe. "Your hair! It's so long!"_

_Riza touched the sandy blonde locks with something close to fondness. "I decided to let my hair grow out – just like your mommy's."_

She remembered how excited Eddie had gotten again, forgetting about the drawing he had made her and focusing on the military woman who had the right to own a gun. He had grown fascinated with the idea of heavy artillery and it had worried her for a long time – until she discovered he was more into the loud _bang _than handling a gun himself.

"_I'll go get you something to drink – you must be thirsty! All the water around here is either evaporating or boiling!" She laughed, Riza smiling after her as she left to pour her a drink. Winry watched them interact from the counter, as she poured a cup of water, and felt a smile tug her lips when Eddie squealed in excitement when Riza touched her gun in mock-thought._

"_I don't know, Ed." Riza trailed off playfully. "You're not going to use one if you see one, right? What did I tell you last time I saw you?"_

"_Never, ever, pick up a gun if I find one!" Eddie chimed happily. "I always tell mommy first!"_

"_Or an adult." Riza added, Eddie repeating it with a grin. "That's right. But, since you've been such a good boy," she eyed him when he giggled a bit, "I'll show it to you once, okay? Go ask your mommy for permission."_

"_'kay!" He dashed to her, tugging on her shirt and begging for Riza to let him see the weapon one of her old superiors had rather snidely regarded as her 'best friend'. Winry nodded, watching him bounce back to tell the woman, who looked up to receive another nod of affirmation. _

"_Have you ever used it?" Eddie asked in awe,, as she swept her eyes over the safety to see it on. It was unloaded, harmless really, but she still kept it on her lap and held a firm hand on the handle, allowing Eddie to poke it experimentally and letting his eyes roam the winking black metal curiously._

"_I have used it a lot of times." Riza replied. "My job requires me to."_

"_What's your job?"_

_Her smile turned rather wry. "Do you remember the Brigadier?"_

_Eddie thought about the name for a moment. "Kinda'. He called me short..."_

"_Yes, he did." Riza, ruffled his hair slightly. "But you're not short at all. You're pretty tall for your age." _

_Ed beamed back._

"_He's my boss." She softly told him. "And he entrusted his back to me. That means I always have to be there for him – no matter what."_

"_No matter what?" He repeated thoughtfully._

"_No matter what..." She murmured, lowering her eyes a fraction before ruffling his hair affectionately once more and allowing him to touch the gun with his pointer finger now._

Winry understood Riza's subtle yearning for a child.

She saw it in the way she smiled at Eddie and played with him in those short four hours. She spoke to her often but her attention was always focused on the small boy who had grown so comfortable with her; so much, he did not mind her setting him on her lap with a bunch of white paper and some colored pencils.

The woman was going to be thirty and she was unmarried and childless. She was running out of time. She knew this, too, but Winry also knew that the woman would first be damned than to allow herself the luxury of a stable life when she needed to be there for Roy Mustang.

"_Ed...would always whine about Brigadier Mustang." Winry began, being careful to add anything that might imply him to be deceased. "Something about his paperwork always being put off..?"_

_Riza sighed sharply. "There are a few things I agree on with Edward: the Brigadier would rather barge into a fist fight and leave as the loser than sit down and finish his paperwork."_

_Winry laughed. "Would he, really?"_

"_He tried to do it once."_

"_Really?" Winry asked, curiously. "Did he actually go through with it?"_

"_No." Riza allowed a soft smile to grace her face as she sighed. As if Roy would even lose the fight – the man would kick sand into the offenders eyes first than lose. It was win or nothing for the prideful brute."I threatened to shoot him and he quit being a clown for around an hour."_

There was also the way she spoke about Roy Mustang, sometimes so harshly, sometime so fondly, that made Winry suspect that the woman's feelings for the man ran deeper than she would have allowed if things went her way.

_She must have known him for a long time, _Winry thought to herself again, resting her head against the glass. She noticed the car switch lanes and it wasn't long before they had stopped at a gas station. She was about to lift her head and perhaps exit the car for some air to clear her muddled mind when she heard Edward asked Alphonse: "How much longer?"

"A couple of hours." Al replied, a yawn in his words. "He isn't going to stop until we reach Central City – we just past North City around four hours ago."

"He's going to drive through the entire night?" Ed asked, skeptically. "What, he has magical abilities that allow him to go seventy two hours without a wink of sleep? We're carrying precious cargo here, if he hasn't noticed!"

She assumed he meant Eddie but she missed the way his hand also motioned to her.

"I _know_, brother, and when he begins to look sleepy, I'll be sure to take over the wheel, okay?"

"...You can _drive_?"

"Yes, Ed, I can drive! You never knew?"

"When the hell did you learn how to _drive_? We haven't been separated since we entered boot camp!"

"Remember that time we had to attend those standard classes within the base? Well, while you chose strategical analysis, I decided to choose an outdoor curriculum, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" Ed voiced in sudden remembrance. "But you always came back in an hour! There's no way you could learn how to drive in an _hour_!"

"Edward, we did those course for nearly three months every single day."

"...That's not the point! _One_ _hour_!"

"_Every day_!"

"One hour every day?" She heard Eddie interrupt with adorable confusion.

"Eddie, you'll side with me on this, right?" Edward coaxed.

"Mmhmm!"

"Hey, no fair!" Al exclaimed, a laugh in his words.

"He chose me so that means I win!" Came Ed's smug reply.

She heard the door get thrown open and close just as fast, their muffled bickering growing distant as she laid against the glass of the window in silent relief. Her hand gripped the hem of her shirt, jaw set tightly as the drivers door of the car was opened. She heard shuffling, the sound of bags crinkling, before the soldier shut the door.

"Ah, another twelve hours after this." She heard the solider sigh to himself. "It's a good thing I'm getting paid overtime."

"Ah, excuse me?"

The soldier started, about to twist his body to face her before he paused and instead looked at her through the rear view mirror. "Yes, ma'am?" He asked stiffly, nothing like the sullen tone he had used previously.

"Um, where are we exactly?"

"A few hours away from Central City, near a town called Whalberg." He informed.

"Twelve hours away, right?" She quietly guessed, his sheepish laughter filling the empty space within the vehicle.

"So you heard that, eh?" His laugh grew rather nervous. She guessed showing such emotion went against some military code of conduct or something. "We'll be arriving soon, ma'am, not to worry!"

"Well, are you sure you're able to drive for so long?" Winry asked, concernedly. Her eyes strayed to the store, to where she could see Edward and Alphonse walk back, still bickering, with Eddie marching happily beside Edward, his hand holding his larger one. "You've been awake for so long – it's not healthy for you to go so many hours without sleep!"

"Don't worry, ma'am." The solider dismissed her concerns good-naturedly. "I've been trained to go various hours without sleep – another twelve won't kill me!"

"But it might kill _us._" She muttered under her breath.

The man only laughed. "I can assure you your families safety, ma'am, there's really nothing to worry about."

"Well, alright." Winry relented, for the sole reason that Edward was nearing the car. "But the instant you get tired, you stop, do you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

She pursed her lips but rested against the window again, closing her eyes just as the doors across from her were thrown open. She could hear Eddie's laughter get quieted by both Ed and Al, who mentioned her sleeping form. She felt the little boy squish near her, Edward's quiet scolding causing him to crawl onto his lap so he did not disturb her.

She tried to fall asleep again as the car revved out of the gasoline station, Edward's gaze on still body before shifting to the glass, which, as they drove past a few road-side houses with well-lit front porches, showed her partly opened eyes in the glare before they became obscured by darkness once more.

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Pinako Rockbell always considered herself a strong-willed individual. From early childhood, she had always been the one who would stand up for what she believed in. It was almost exasperating, how rebellious and stubborn she could be when she wanted to. She supposed these qualities had matured overtime but had not completely faded away – her fighting will coming through for her in letting her live another few years.

She rocked in her chair, the sun rising slowly on the skyline. It was very early in the day, a very chilly one at that too, but she did not mind as she rose a tremulous hand to light her pipe. The doctors at Rush Valley Medical Center had warned her of the deadly after-effects of constant tobacco usage but she didn't really give a damn. She liked smoking and she knew the risks but there were no two ways about it: she wasn't about to quit now, so late into her age.

If tobacco would be the death of her then it would have killed her a long time ago, she rationalized, taking a deep draw of her pipe as if to prove this.

She had awoken to a blank ceiling and the scent of anesthetic and disinfectant; a smell she was familiar with since she owned her own clinic, being an automail surgeon and all. The nurse had been checking her IV's, a clipboard held to her chest, when she had awoken – in pain, she would remind. The quick effect of heavy painkillers had eased the lip-biting burn in her shoulder and the nurse had relayed her status to her in a few short words, handing her her chart when she asked for it.

Her recovery had taken a while, if she did say so herself, but she had been given the green light only three and a half weeks later. To her surprise, it had been the man who had first saved her, Heymans Breda, who had been waiting down by the lobby for her arrival, stating that he would be taking her back to the house unless she didn't feel ready to face the place of her near-grave.

"_Don't be foolish." She scoffed, motioning forward with a bony finger. Breda pushed the wheelchair, his smile widening when the old woman sniffed: "It was just a little flesh wound, is all!"_

"_You were bleeding like a butchered pig, grans, I don't think that qualifies as a flesh wound." He replied, wryly._

"_It does to me!" The old woman chortled back._

It was nice to return to the apartment. She found that their things were left untouched, if a little tampered with. The blood that dragged across the floor was cleaned. The bathroom was in shining state; nothing like the coated blood that splattered the sink and floor and tub before. The things dropped during Isaac's struggle to subdue her were gone; replaced she noticed.

They had done well in cleaning up.

She supposed it shouldn't have been surprising: they were mutt's in a pen, after all. They were instructed by their masters, being taught tricks that pleased the general audience.

They were dogs.

And she remembered how frightened for her granddaughter she had been when she came to the harrowing conclusion that those dogs (but not those nicely trained mutts like in Central, no, but those savage one's for illegal game) had taken her and her son and were no doubt submitting them to the most terrible treatment. An old pain clutched her heart, the same one from when Sara and Urey had gone off to war, but it was doubled because she had made a promise to Sara and Urey; a promise to keep their daughter safe and sound, to keep her in the best health and give her the best of everything.

Because they knew there was a fifty-fifty chance of not returning.

Pinako mourned the fifty percent that had pulled through: they had died in action.

Pinako also mourned the broken promise. She hadn't kept her safe and sound. Perhaps she should have been more strict when Winry declared they should return to Rush Valley. She shouldn't have allowed it but she had and now she paid for her slip up.

Heymans had assured her Winry was in safe hands a few minutes after their arrival to the apartment. There wasn't much he told her but it was enough to tell her that Edward and Alphonse were, somehow, still alive. The puzzle pieces had only fit in nicely after some pondering: her granddaughter hadn't gone mad with grief after all, and what that military woman, Hawkeye she believed her name was, had told Winry via letters had been truth. They were still alive, _he _was still alive, and Winry had somehow fallen into their hands because they had been, no doubt, appointed to the very facility her granddaughter and son had been kept.

Pinako could only thank the gods it had all fallen into place in the end.

A whistle distracted her and she saw Heymans Breda peek his head into the house, searching for her no doubt as she heaved herself out of the rocking chair and slowly made her way toward the front door.

"Yes, what is it?" She asked briskly.

"I've got some good news and some bad news for you, granny." Heymans started, gaining her permission to enter with a curt nod of her head. He closed the door behind him. "Good news: you won't have a bunch of random military officers breathing down your neck starting next week. Bad news: you'll have a military officer living in your home for around... ten to eleven months or so?"

"_Living?_" Pinako bristled, a disapproving frown starting to form on her face. "_I_ say who gets to live here or not! And if what you told me yesterday was true, I'm a little short on room if Winry, Eddie, Edward and Alphonse are coming back here!"

"We've got that covered!" Heymans quickly said. "You'll be moving into a different apartment complex – it's closer to the train station but they've got the only four bedroom apartment right now!"

"Four?" Pinako replied, the frown still on her lips. She dismissed the apartment issue, going back to the real problem: "Who authorized this? They can't just send some mangy _dog _to live here with us!"

"Oh, I wouldn't call her that if I were you." Breda wearily said. "She's on good terms with the brothers and Winry especially. I think you've heard of her: Major Riza Hawkeye...?"

"Hawkeye?" Of course she had heard of her – it was that kind but severe woman who always visited when they were due for relocation. She did not necessarily hold a grudge against her, she seemed to have her head on right and her ethics straight, but it was still a bother to have someone infamously known as the Hawk's Eye live within her home with her granddaughter and her son. "That changes things... I assume she'll be our guard until everything settles down?"

"You got it." Breda inwardly sighed in relief. He was glad he didn't have to pull rank and forcibly ask her to concede with the order. "Brigadier Mustang didn't tell me much except she would be guarding you all until further notice."

"I see." Pinako rummaged through her aprons pockets, pulling out her trusty pipe again. It wasn't like she had much of a choice but at least, she figured, he had been polite enough to warn her a few days beforehand. She lit a match, igniting the tobacco within the pipe. "Well, then, when should I expect her here?"

"Next week, Monday, eight am sharp." Breda smiled a bit, knowing the old woman would be in for a surprise when she discovered just who else was accompanying the strict military woman. "But first, we gotta' get you settled down in your new home!"

Pinako merely blew out smoke. "Another day of having strangers touching my things. I'm getting too old for this..." She waved him off as she headed back to her rocking chair. "Get outta' here, Heymans! When you're ready for your men to start loading up the furniture, give me a holler!"

"Will do, grams!"

* * *

**A/N: **Aw, one more chapter left to go. The silly part is that is that's the _one _chapter that has yet to be written. I'm actually stuck on a part and I've been brainstorming how to write it for weeks now but no luck so far. I figure once I post this chapter and the pressure starts to really get to me, I'll force myself to write it and eventually finish it.

The last chapter is most likely going to be a monster, though, but you guy's don't mind, right? This whole story is a monster XD

_Scarlett._


	10. Heal

**Wanderlust  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

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** Chapter 10: **Heal

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She sat up, grunting at the endless pricks of pain that attack her stomach in response. The bandage reached around her shoulder, covering her breasts in the process, although Riza thought using that much bandage was completely unnecessary.

Her injury wasn't as bad as it seemed.

Despite the fountain of blood that had poured from the bullet wound, once the wound was cleaned and thoroughly examined by former-Coroner Dr. Knox, she was told that the bullet had actually managed to go straight through her and must've ended up somewhere else; probably in the wall or floor, although Riza was not concerned with those technical details.

There was a lot of medical jargon her drug-muddled mind barely managed to comprehend but the end-result was the same: she was one lucky lady, she had lost a lot of blood, she had regained it now through transfusion, she was out of the woods for now, and that wound was going to cause her a helluva lot of pain for the next few weeks.

It had only been four days and Roy had yet to leave her alone. She was touched when she found him sitting in a chair by her bedside, snoring lightly with his arms crossed over his chest, head lolled back in a position that would no doubt get him a kink.

But it didn't take her a long time for her fondness to grow into annoyance when he awoke and opened his big mouth.

"_Go to work. You're probably behind in your reports as we speak."_

"_But—!"_

_Click._

"_Now."_

"_Yes, Riza..."_

She was happy to say Dr. Knox allowed her to keep her gun even though it roused awful feelings. She usually held it in her hand during long nights, stroking the black metal with her thumb and wondering how she had survived such a point-blank shot without any major repercussions.

Riza sharply looked up when the door clicked open, revealing weary coal black eyes matched with a grim smile of greeting. Roy shut the door behind him, one hand casually inside his pocket while the other held a brown sack of something she couldn't begin to identify.

"Sir, what're you doing here?" Riza flicked her eyes to the clock, knowing full-well he still had four more hours to go before he could leave the overbearing atmosphere of his office. "Your work had better be done if you're here on unofficial business."

Strict and severe, no-nonsense and demanding...

She wasn't about to change, even if she did admit to looking pitiful and pathetic lying in bed awkwardly on her side, resiting grunts of pain because her stomach felt as if someone was taking pleasure in stabbing her their fingers in it.

"Not even a 'hello'? How rude of you, Major." Roy lightly joked, hooking his foot around the foot of the chair and bringing it toward him. He flipped it around, sitting backwards on it with his chin resting atop the backrest. "I thought you would like this."

Riza raised a brow in question but took the sack. It was a little heavy, and she thought she heard the familiar clink of a fork hitting plastic, but when she looked up to ask him he was gazing out the window, pointedly ignoring her.

_Oh..._

It was food.

But that was not what made it so surprising: it was the fact that it was her favourite dessert, strawberry cheesecake, along with one of those chocolate muffin she bought if morning hunger became too much of a distraction at work.

"I recall you mentioning about cheesecake during lunch once." Roy answered her silent question. "I hope that wasn't just a fleeting comment."

A small smile broke her face, her fingers digging into the crinkling brown bag as she tried to keep her face from softening _too _much. She was already bedridden, the last thing she needed was to look like some drugged up flake since she was aware that her smiles tended to look lopsided and strange.

She wasn't very used to smiling.

Unbeknownst to her, Roy starved for her smile. It was rare, something to be cherished, and when he saw her chocolate ruby eyes light up, a slight tug lift her lips, his chest constricted with that familiar sense of overwhelmed relief. His eyes were used to her stony expression but his dreams were alive with her rare smile, even rarer grin, and rang with her tinkling laugh that he had only heard less than ten times in his entire life.

And just as fast as it appeared, it disappeared.

Her face was once again smooth and controlled.

Her eyes, though, to his ever-sweet relief and joy, were still alive. They were always alive with something – be it annoyance, humor, wrath, thoughtfulness, happiness. But they always shone, always glowed, even if she tried to hide it.

He had become an expert in those muddled red eyes of hers and Mustang privately prided himself in being able to know exactly what she was feeling and thinking with a mere glance into her expressive eyes.

It was what saved him from being shot in the leg when he pissed her off.

"Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you, Roy..." She trailed off, overlooking her mistake of using his name instead of his rank. Her fingers hurt from digging them into the bag so much but she didn't know what to do, so she offered what little words she could.

"How's your wound doing?"

"Better. There shouldn't be any massive drawbacks from the injury." Riza was relieved. Being taken out of the military because of a simple gunshot wound that damaged her too much internally would be have been tragic.

Roy was silent for a second. "I see... I hate to say this so soon, but would you agree to return Monday?"

"Monday?" Monday was in _one_ day and she had technically barely begun to recuperate. Riza furrowed a brow. Was there something urgent that needed to be fixed? Either way, she was a sitting duck – she couldn't move, much less walk.

"Yes, Monday." Roy straightened, alerting Riza that he was about to brief her on the assignment. He always straightened and hardened his eyes whenever he briefed them for assignments. "The assignment is particularly simple. You will be posted at the Rockbell Household until further notice."

Riza's eyes widened in realization once she digested his words. "Guard?" She rasped. "I will be _guarding_ the Rockbell's?" It didn't sound bad, honestly, but her wound...

A smile ghosted Roy's lips at her brightened ruby eyes. "Until further notice, yes. I have spoken with Dr. Knox and although you are due for a few more weeks in the hospital, he gave me the green-light to move you to another place for recuperation. On Monday, you will be transferred to the Rockbell household first thing in the morning – Mrs. Rockbell has absolutely no problem sheltering you until you are well enough to return to work."

Riza pressed her lips together. "I believe it would be more appropriate to stay here in the hospital, don't you think? My wounds are still fresh." She pretended not to see the way he barely restrained a flinch at the mention of her wound.

"I know." Roy shifted to his weight to the right. "However, you were never one to remain sedentary for so long and you _will _be recuperating... just somewhere that is less – clinical." He meant less depressing, Riza knew.

White always depressed him.

It reminded him of how tainted he actually was.

That was the reason he disliked hospitals and clinics and ripped off the white plaster of his apartment to be replace with paneled wood when he first moved in.

"But I am _technically_ working, right?"

Roy shrugged. "If you see it that way." He didn't expect any more issues to arise, not since he was also positioning a few officers around the building to aid her.

Riza just smiled wearily. "Has Mrs. Rockbell consented? She doesn't like military personnel invading her home..."

Roy smirked. "Of course she consented. It's difficult to reject such a charming woman like you." He grinned, making Riza roll her eyes at his obvious suck up.

"Roy?"

"Yes..?"

"Get out. Your break has been over for the past four minutes."

Roy sighed, although his eyes twinkled with warmth. "...Yes, Riza. Be ready to leave tomorrow early in the morning. I'll see you soon." He heaved himself up, pushing the chair back in its place.

Right before he exited the room, she asked, a little timidly: "Should I expect you here tomorrow for my relocation?"

Mustang just slipped his hand into his pocket, hiding his smile from her. "You shouldn't expect anything less." And left, knowing her warm chocolate-ruby eyes followed him until the door shut behind him.

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..

.

They've been at it since they left the Fort.

And, although praised for his patience, there was only so much he could take before he had to put a stop to it.

Alphonse nervously glanced at the pair that sat in the back seat through the rear view mirror, stubbornly ignoring each other. They had already arrived in Central however the driver was filling up the gas tank all the way to prevent further delay once they entered Central Command.

But Al had a feeling everything would only get more complicated, by the way Edward resolutely stared out the window and Winry tried her luck glaring holes into the back of the drivers seat. Al could only imagine how nerve-wracking it must be for the driver, who had to put up with her glare for _hours_...

"Look! A doggy!" Eddie squealed, pointing excitedly out the window.

The only one who remained normal was Eddie...

But even _he_ couldn't bring both adults out of their bitter moods.

"Major Elric, would you like anything from the convenience store?" The soldier asked, sensing the discomfort within the vehicle and wanting nothing to do with it.

"No, thanks." Edward muttered, sinking deeper into the seat with Eddie bouncing happily on his lap. "Al?"

"Yes!" Al quickly agreed, motioning the driver to stay where he was. The soldier silently conceded, watching the sibling quickly get out of the car and open up one of the back doors. He plucked Eddie off Edward's lap, ignoring the man's alarmed gasp, and shut the door before Ed could snatch the little boy back; the one thing that had protected him from Winry's expectant and venomous glare.

_Shit. _Ed paled, watching Al send him a _look_ through the misty window. A look he knew far too well and wished he didn't. The soldier was beckoned to follow the younger brother into the store and soon Ed could no longer see them from his place.

He nervously glanced to his left, his grim emotions resurfacing at the sight of Winry's turned away body.

She didn't even make an effort to look at him.

He was starting to feel worse.

It went on like this for exactly two minutes before Edward couldn't take the silence anymore. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He could confront her or avoid her and he preferred avoiding her. She couldn't ignore him forever, could she? Somehow, Ed knew she could. "Uh, I have to go...buy something... I'll be back in a bit." He moved to open the door when a sneering huff from Winry paused him.

"Okay."

He narrowed his eyes. It didn't sound like it was 'okay'. Nothing seemed okay that day. "... Do you want anything?"

"No." She still didn't face him. "I don't need anything from a convenience store right now."

He read between the lines against his will. Ed tapped a finger on his knee and asked, very slowly: "... But you need something from somewhere else, right?" He was digging his grave – what was it with him and diving into dangerous, possibly fatal, situations?

He blamed the military and joining it at the age of twelve...it couldn't be healthy for a boy to join such stone-hard society at such a feeble age.

"I guess you _have _gotten a little smarter during your absence." She sharply side-glanced him. "But just a little. You're still the dumb, clueless, Ed I've known since we were children!"

Anger flashed through his eyes. "The hells that supposed to mean? I wasn't dumb when we were kids! Hell, I was smarter than the average _highschooler_ at that age!"

"Academically." Winry smartly replied. "Emotionally, you were as mature as a five year old. Still are."

"Alright, what the hells your problem?" He demanded. He didn't want to confront her but now she was just asking for it. "You've been silent throughout this entire ride and you haven't _once _looked at me! And now you're insulting me?"

"I don't _have_ a problem!" Winry snapped. "_You _have a problem, though!"

Ed scowled. "I don't have a problem."

"Yes! You do!" Winry finally turned to look at him, her oceanic blue eyes storming with what she had been harboring inside. "Ever since that accident at the Fort, _you _haven't let go of Eddie!"

"So, what? Is it wrong for me to hold my own son?" Ed argued.

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it, Ed!" Winry replied, heatedly. "Something happened back there and _you're _too much of a big-headed _idiot _to tell me about it!"

Ed grimly looked away. He wished she would just drop it already. "You're _still _going on about that? Look, Winry, that's old news now and—!"

"It's not old news – stop trying to make it out like something that isn't important when it _clearly_ is!" Winry shouted, authoritatively. It was enough to shut him up automatically. Perhaps all those years stuck in the military had drilled in obedience a little too deeply. "Edward, whether you want to or not, you're going to have to tell me some things, especially things that affect you like this. You haven't let go Eddie once since we left the Fort... and you've been staring out the window or pretending to sleep for nearly the whole ride..." Winry dropped her voice. "You haven't gotten a wink of sleep, have you?"

Ed hesitated and didn't speak.

Winry's eyes softened a little at his guilty but hard face. "You don't have to keep it in, Ed... I know it's going to be hard to trust me again but... I just want you to know that I'm here for you and you can tell me anything." She hesitantly reached out for his hand, the tips of her fingers touching his ice-cold skin. "It'll be like before." She forced a smile on. "You'll be laughing about whatever is eating up at you soon... right?"

Edward didn't reply.

He stared at her hand.

She felt warm – far warmer than him. But then again, she had always been warm. Even on the coldest night, back before the war had ripped them apart, she had always been able to warm him – even _with_ his ice-cold automail. She was just someone with the inherent ability to warm...

His fingers twitched and slowly his hand turned to grab hers.

The war had done a lot of things, destroyed a lot of families, lives, but he couldn't allow it to destroy _this _link to his past; this last shred of family he had.

A small smile graced Winry's face.

Edward stared hard at their hands. He didn't want to ruin her good mood with what had really been eating at him all this time. But this was enough, he thought; just preparing himself to tell her soon should be enough. "... Right."

Winry sighed in relief.

Her fingers clutched around his flesh ones – not his automail ones – and she felt comforted by the fact that he had responded with his flesh hand and not the metal hand. He had pulled that trick on her once or twice before – where he'd hold her hand with his automail, an indicator that he had blocked out her words, chose not to hear them, and felt nothing, just like that metal arm of his.

She wouldn't press into what was eating him up – not yet, at least.

As long as he told her, when he was ready, it was enough...

Winry squeezed his hand.

It would be enough for now.

.

..

.

"Don't move – your stitches'll open up and then you'll be a bleedin' mess!" Pinako scolded, tapping the tip of her pipe on top of Riza's head to keep her from squirming. "Be a good soldier now and listen to me!"

Riza grunted in cooperation, resisting the urge to turn on her side as her backside was starting to feel numb. She had never been the type of person to sleep on her back and since sleeping on her stomach or side was almost impossible considering how new the injury was, she was unable to do anything more than bear it and hope that her body kicked into overdrive to heal the sore wound.

"Quit your squirming!"

"Sorry..." Riza muttered, slightly annoyed with herself. She just had to sit still for a few hours! Eventually the pain would became nothing more than an irksome burn in the back of her mind; a burn she had enough years of experience to ignore to the point of forgetting about it.

"How long do you plan on staying here?" Pinako asked, fixing her single bun on the back of her head.

"Not too long." Riza answered. "I'm assuming it'll be between two to six months. The Brigadier General hasn't disclosed that information to me yet."

"Tch." Pinako scoffed, patting her bun down. "Arrogant, good-for-nothin', General withholding information again, eh?"

A small smile grazed her lips. She could say that again. "Yes."

"Doesn't it bother you sometimes?"

"Not always." Riza replied, watching the old woman hobble over to the curtains and peer through them. "Brigadier Mustang has his reasons for withholding information from me and I'm no one to say otherwise."

"Ah, yes, the military and their ranks system." Pinako murmured, tsking in disdain. "Only good for making each other feel bad, that's what I think!"

"Why would you say that?" Riza asked, curious. She tried to sit up but flinched, deciding against it. The last thing she needed was for her stitches to _really _tear. Something told her Pinako wouldn't be as kind as the doctors at the hospital had been – then again, she had been under the aid of anesthesia when they sewed her up...

"Well, you have no voice in the military." Pinako elaborated. "You're just another dog ready to head into the brawl at the command of your master."

Riza said nothing.

It was a harsh way to put it but Riza had no reason to rebuke it. The woman had lost a child to war, to the military, because they had plucked them from their peaceful town and dropped them straight into the cross-fire with no way to escape.

She did not know the absolute details since Winry didn't bring her parents up very often – if at all – but she did have reason to believe that it was the military's doing that they had died, albeit honorably, in the heat of battle, or saving lives, as they had been trained medical doctors...

A distant knocking brought her out of her muse.

"Ah, that must be Breda." Pinako said, with a small smile.

"Heymans is here?" Riza echoed, puzzled. She hadn't seen him for a while but why was he here, of all places?

"Well, he _did_ say he'd be here when they arrived." Pinako explained vaguely, hobbling out of the bedroom. "You stay put, dear, I'll handle it. Don't move around, too, or else!" Pinako sternly told her, her eyes falling on her stomach.

Riza placed a hand over her wound self-consciously.

She hated being treated so delicately for a simple bullet wound.

"Riza, how you holding up?" Heymans asked, appearing in the doorway a few minutes later. Riza felt a smile tug on her lips. "The General told me you're going to be guarding the Rockbell's in place of me. I'm trembling in pants already!" He joked.

The sound of a safety releasing and the chilling _cah-chink _of a gun loading made him freeze by the door, a smug Riza aiming two fully-loaded hand guns in his direction. He was awfully aware that she had a twenty-twenty rate and hardly missed a shot – if at all.

"You were saying?"

Heymans gulped. He grinned weakly. "Good to have you back, Riza."

"Indeed."

Riza gasped, lowering her two guns when she saw her superior walk through the door, chin held high as always. His dark eyes twinkled in amusement at their small discussion.

"General, sir!" Riza scrambled to put her prized possessions back in their place. Aiming guns at another comrade in the presence of her superior was definitely _not_ advisable...and she had to keep her professionalism in front of Pinako.

"Relax." Roy rose one hand, chuckling when she merely ignored it and saluted respectfully. "How was the transfer?"

"Successful, sir."

"Honestly?"

Riza smiled wryly. Of course he wouldn't let her handle this like protocol stated. "A little painful..."

Roy sighed. "I told them to go easy on you!"

"They did." Riza offered, placing a hand on her wounded abdomen. "It's just me..."

"She won't quit squirming!" Pinako elaborated, coming up beside Roy and shaking her head at the sheepish girl. "I told her that if she keeps moving around like that, her stitches'll open up again and she'll be back to square one!"

Roy rose a brow at Riza in question.

"Pardon me, sir," was all she mumbled.

"What are you doing here, _General?_" Pinako eyed Roy distastefully.

"I'm here as the welcoming committee for Fullmetal." Roy smirked. "He should be here any minute now..."

"What time will they be arriving?" Riza queried, adding: "Oh. Do they know of Pinako's good health?"

Roy merely shrugged. "Maybe."

"Hey, hey!" Heymans interrupted, rushing back to the door frame. "They're here! The car just parked outside!"

"Good! I want to see my granddaughter for myself!" Pinako huffed, making her way past the two men.

"Hold up there, granny!" Heymans quickly stopped her in her tracks. "None of them know that you're still alive, might I remind you?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." Pinako glared. "Which is why I was going out to show 'em I'm not ready to kick the bucket just yet! Now if you would excuse me—!"

"How about you wait up here while we greet them downstairs?" Roy suggested, a plan formulating in his head. "It would certainly come as a pleasant surprise for both the twerp and your lovely granddaughter to see you are in spectacular health."

Pinako frowned, feeling cornered by both men. She glanced over at Riza, who smiled wearily at her comrades relentlessness.

"Alright then." Pinako placed the pipe back on her lips. "Go ahead, you good for nothin'..." She trailed off, grumbling back to Riza's side.

"Well, sir." Heymans grinned at him. "Ready when you are."

Roy nodded, sparing one last glance at Riza before turning heel to head downstairs. "Let's go before the squirt causes a scene."

.

..

.

She wasn't thrilled about being back in Central and was even more miserable due to the fact that Edward had reverted to keeping secrets. But even if she managed to overcome that obstacle, the fact that she was back in Central City still dampened her mood considerably.

Even if being in the city meant everything was slowly going back to normal.

Ed and Al appeared relieved to be away from the icy north but Winry wanted to be anywhere _but_ Central. She guessed it was better than Rush Valley – at least she would not have to face the place where her dear grandmother had passed away – but she had a feeling she would be returning to that accursed town soon...

It was uneventful.

Ed, Al and Eddie were the only ones who had something of a good time – such as greeting some of their old friends, the little boy content in the company of his father and uncle – as the brothers had to be debriefed by the Fuhrer himself. She had sat out in the waiting room for the majority of it, watching Eddie play by himself with whatever he could get his hands on or gently rocking him to sleep on her lap when he grew tired of being awake.

All that had been on her mind in those five hours was her grandmother.

How would she explain to Eddie his granny was dead? Did he even understand the concept of death yet? He had never been exposed to it, although she could grimly say he was involved with the military through her.

How would she deal with it, actually? There had been too much going on, too many distractions, back at Briggs and Drachma that she hadn't the time to dwell on her deceased grandmother for long periods of time. But now that the danger was long past, and, now that she was finally regaining some sense of normalcy, she was doomed to grieve for her precious grandmother... right?

Her second mother, essentially.

She already lost her parents, now her granny?

Winry bit her lip and stared at her lap, careful not to allow any of the brimming tears in her eyes to fall.

They would be leaving directly to Rush Valley to meet with Brigadier General Mustang – Ed had confirmed it, and her stomach had dropped to her ankles when it sunk in.

What that man was doing in Rush Valley she didn't have a clue – all she cared about was avoiding the haunting home where she had lost the last piece of her past.

Now she was technically the only Rockbell.

It was her duty to continue to legacy, and she squeezed the sleeping boy in her arms as if to reassure herself that if something happened to her, her bloodline would live on through her son...

"Winry!" Alphonse cheerfully called. "We're leaving! Come on, brother is getting impatient!"

Winry was startled back, and she forced on a weak smile as she stood from the bench she had taken seat on. She put all her focus on adjusting Eddie in her arms as she walked. "Okay, I'm going..."

"Are you okay?" Al asked, concerned. "You look... tired." He nervously added.

Winry smiled wearily. "I just didn't sleep well in the car, that's all. Don't worry about it."

"Well, it's only a two hour ride to Rush Valley by car so we should arrive there before six." Al offered in comfort. "Then you could sleep in your room.."

Winry paled. "Room..?"

"Yes, Fuhrer Grumman informed Ed and I that General Mustang set up accommodations for us in Rush Valley! Isn't that nice of him? You get to live in the town you've always wanted!" Al smiled, only to have it fade when Winry didn't react to the news.

"Yeah, that was very... nice of him..." Winry shakily laughed, quickly ducking away from Al. She heard his footsteps behind her but she didn't dare look back; only forward, the only way she could look from now as she stifled her grief and soldiered on toward the car that would take her to the place where her granny passed away by the hands of a Drachma operative.

The card ride was glum and silent.

They both knew all about granny's death but Alphonse was trying his hardest to maintain a positive disposition – even though she sometimes saw sorrow flit his eyes whenever they landed on her.

It would be the hardest on her, they probably thought.

And Winry wouldn't deny it – they were probably right.

"You okay?" Ed asked, quietly.

"Mmhmm." Winry didn't look at him as she said this. She felt his hand touch hers hesitantly, and she took it tightly. "I'll be fine."

She wasn't but the last thing she wanted to do was dampen the mood even more than it already was.

.

..

.

New house, new life.

She could live with that motto.

Winry gazed at the house emptily, holding hands with her son as he picked at the button of his shirt boredly. It was a pretty big complex, and Winry absently wondered what floor they would be on, when the entrance door to the complex swung open and out swaggered Roy Mustang wearing his most charming smile on his face.

"General Mustang!" Alphonse exclaimed, garnering Ed's attention.

Ed smirked at the general, who returned the sentiment with a hint of the cockiness Edward hadn't seen in years. "Well, if it isn't Colonel Bastard." He paused. "Or is General Bastard now?"

"Watch your mouth, pipsqueak, I can court-martial you for that." He also paused, mocking him. "Or should I say, giant, now?"

Ed glared. "Only _you _could make a compliment sound like an insult."

"Oh, but I wasn't complimenting you, Full Metal." He grinned, ignoring Ed's snap in favour of walking to Winry, who tensed with each step he took.

"Miss Rockbell, we do apologize for the rather unsightly turn of events. It was our duty to protect you and your son, after all." Roy stated, his eyes losing their spark for an instant. "And we're terribly sorry about..."

She just nodded stiffly – not trusting herself to speak.

She might say something she will regret later.

"But we do have some rather good news." His sparkle was back, as he turned on his heel and motioned them to follow him with his finger. "Come along."

Winry saw Heymans, Alphonse and Ed abruptly cut their conversation when they noticed they were heading into the complex. Winry picked up her son, more out of the fact that she did not know what to with her hands and holding him seemed to have the effect of soothing her grieving heart.

They were on the third floor, it seemed, and Winry wondered if she could get Edward to relocate them somewhere else – somewhere far, _far_ away from this haunted place – when a familiar and heartbreaking sound caught her attention.

"... goin' to get here!"

She froze.

"I want to see my granddaughter and grandson already!"

_No way..._

Tears beading the corners of her eyes, her heart lunging in hope, Winry all but flew past the General to reach the door she had heard her grandmothers voice come from. There was a twist in her gut, a doubt that viciously told her she was hearing things. But she was so _sure_ – she could not have imagined her grandmothers voice with such clarity...

"G-Granny?" Winry croaked, standing by the door frame weakly. There she was – like nothing had every happened; completely healed, unhurt. She still had her pipe in her mouth, that free-spirited glint in her eyes, and that same grin on her face whenever someone dear came to visit. She was breathing and alive. "Granny, is that..." _really you? _

"What?" Pinako smiled warmly, turning to her. "Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to come say hello to your grandmother?"

Tears skid down her cheeks as she scrambled to her granny and fell on her knees, bringing her into her arms as Eddie wiggled down from the tight embrace. His own eyes began to water a little at his mothers loud cries but the mistiness in his eyes quickly disappeared when he felt someone else pick him up: Alphonse.

"Come on, lets give them some space, Ed." Al soothingly said, bouncing him on his hip and easing away from the tearful reunion. "Your mommy and granny are just have a little moment."

"Okay.." He said, nodding in understanding. He looked for his father, who stood by the door frame with a relieved smile on his face. His eyes were a little misty themselves but Eddie saw that his dad did a better job at hiding it than his mom did, who had still to let go of his granny and quiet her wails.

"I guess you did something right, huh?" Eddie heard his father tell Roy, who just huffed as if offended.

"Amestris offers only the best military protection services, Full Metal, I'd say you should have expected it."

Ed shot him an annoyed look. "Don't ruin it, Colonel Bastard."

"That's _General_ to you."

"So you admit you're a bastard? 'Bout time..." He grinned slyly.

Roy glared. "You might not be as short as you were before, Full Metal, but now you're a freak—!"

"Ed, General, come on!" Alphonse sighed, waving Ed over to greet their surrogate grandmother Pinako. "Stop bickering with the General and say hello to granny, Ed!"

"Coming! Geez..." Ed walked over, and nearly stumbled when Pinako airily commented: "You've gotten quite tall now, Edward, almost like a _giant_..."

"What're you trying to say, old hag?" Ed growled, squatting down to glare evenly in her eyes. "I'm _tall, _not a giant."

Pinako flicked him on the forehead with her pipe. "Isn't it just funny how a few years ago, you were complaining about being too short and now you're gonna' be complaining about being too tall?" She took a draw of smoke, exhaling: "Make up your mind already, Edward, you can only get taller from here on out! Let's hope you stop growing; any taller, and I'd have to choose out a new groom for my granddaughter..."

"_What?_" Ed gawked, eye twitching in disbelief. "Argh! I'm gonna'—!"

"Ed! Respect my granny!" Winry barked.

"But I didn't even—!"

"Ed, you heard her." Al warned.

"But—!"

"Full Metal, just shut up already."

"_You _shut up, you shitty Colonel!"

"Hahaha!" Eddie laughed happily, clapping his hands as he repeated: "Shitty! Shitty!"

"ED!" Winry snapped in outrage, covering her sons ears with her hands immediately. Al sighed at his brothers loose lips while Pinako stifled a snicker by taking a draw of smoke from her pipe. "SHUT UP! I will not have Eddie repeating all the horrible words you've picked up from your travels!"

Ed opened his mouth to retort when Roy interjected: "You heard her, Full Metal, be a good father and shut your trap."

"I...I give up." Ed groaned, rubbing his eyes out in exasperation. Were they all out to get him today? He sure felt like they were.

Heymans came up beside him and clapped him on his back, adding cheerfully: "Welcome to the family life, chief!"

Ed dryly looked at him. "Heymans?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He only chuckled, pushing him forward good-naturedly. "I've got some good and bad news for everyone!" He announced to them, grabbing their attention. "Good news: Major Riza Hawkeye is gonna' be your guard for the next couple of months!"

"Oh! Riza's here?" Winy asked, hopefully. Eddie snapped his head up at the sound of her name, a small but bright smile growing on his face.

Heymans smiled, a little wearily. "Yes. But here's the bad news: she's currently handicap due to an accident in Central Command." He pointed to his stomach, adding: "Got shot clean in the stomach."

Winry gasped. "I-is she okay? She'll be fine, right?" She looked from Heymans to Roy worriedly, her eyes resting on Roy when he nodded confidently.

"A bullet isn't enough to slow Riza down." He affirmed. "She's a tough girl. She'll pull through."

"Sir?" A distant voice rang dully. Winry took a few steps to a narrow hall, toward a room with a cracked open door. "Please stop making me out as if I'm in surgery – it's embarrassing."

"Riza...?" Winry whispered hesitantly, pushing the door open to find her lying in bed; healthy, had it not been for the visible bandages that she could pick out. She looked no worse for wear – a little pale, but it was nothing a little sunlight and a good, hot, meal could not fix.

"Welcome home, Winry." Riza warmly greeted her, wincing a little when the girl ran to her and threw her arms over her neck. She patted her back in comfort, deciding moving in for the time-being had been one of Roy's more bright ideas – even if he said she was 'guarding' them. "Welcome home..."

.

..

.

One month had been enough time to regularize their life.

Edward would have called it perfect had it not been for the fact that Mustang came over every other day to check up on Riza and _never _failed to point out that he had grown a little too much and now appeared like a giant.

He knew he was just joking, though.

Or at least he had _better_ be – Ed was just about ready to slam his face into a wall if he continued with his merciless teases about his height.

"Ed!" Alphonse called, desperately. He turned his head, expecting his brother to tell him something, only to find that he was actually calling his son, who sneakily avoided any attempts at being caught. "No—come back here!"

"Alphonse! Did you get him yet?" Winry's voice came from down the hall, muffled by the walls.

"No! Not yet!"

"What're you doing?" Ed asked lazily, sitting on the couch with a book on his lap.

"Trying to catch him, what does it look like I'm doing, brother?" Al snapped, irritated with his offspring. Eddie had totally _demolished _whatever ideas he had of starting a family – since Edward as his brother, Al could only imagine his own kid inheriting some of his brothers lesser traits.

It made him shudder at the thought of one of his children inheriting Edward's temper.

"Eddie." Ed called boredly, whistling to catch his attention. "C'mere for a second, I have something to show you..."

The little boy avoided his uncle as he ran to him, clutching onto his legs with a giant grin.

"What is it, what is it?" He asked, excitedly.

"It's..." Ed trailed off, motioning his brother to catch him now while he was distracted. "...Alphonse!"

Eddie gasped and squealed when his uncle grabbed him from under his arms and lifted him up into his arms. "Come on, Eddie, it's time for your bath." He wearily smiled at him, as he whined to be put back down and promised to take a bath... later.

Pinako's home cooking drifted in from the kitchen and Ed could vaguely hear Riza reprimanding Roy for something or the other in the room she occupied.

The familial sounds were welcomed, even when Al yelped and the ground shook with his fall.

He snorted in laughter when Eddie came running back out, grinning triumphantly.

"ED! CATCH EDDIE!" Winry shrieked from down the hall.

"Uh huh..." He watched as the little boy ran to his grandmother, clad in only his underwear. "Sure..." He went back to his book, not even bothering with trying to catch the child. He had tried once and frankly tired himself out sore.

But the tiresome activities were welcomed.

He was finally home.

Ed smiled, watching as his brother darted into the living room and tries to catch his troublesome nephew, who giggled giddily at being able to escape the clutches of his uncle again, and then watched Winry laugh heartily at their cat-and-mouse game when she came out of Riza's bedroom.

She noticed his staring and smiled brightly, jerking a thumb to her right. "Hey, Ed, you look a little bored. How about you come help me bring up the boxes from the car downstairs? Al said he'd bathe Eddie today so we can finally unpack our things."

Ed groaned in return. He had been hoping to avoid that. He heaved a sigh as he stood. "Fine. You better help me, too, though – I'm not carrying everything upstairs!" He warned, tossing his book beside him on the sofa.

Winry rolled her eyes at his whining. "Whatever, just get over here and help me already!" She disappeared out the door, leaving it open for him to follow.

Eddie streaked past him, Al hot on his trail.

He chuckled when he heard Al swear, no doubt having hit his elbow somewhere by the way he was trying to suppress colorful adjectives.

"Ed! Come on!" Winry poked her head back inside, frowning. "I want to unload all of our stuff already!"

"You _sure_ you shouldn't help him?" He smiled when Al hooted triumphantly, having finally caught his troublesome son.

Winry giggled. "He likes children, right? Well, he has to learn that not all of them are as angelic as he makes them out to be!"

Ed snickered. "Yeah, alright."

Despite the tumbles he knew he would face in the future, he was home after such a long absence. He was with his new family and reunited with his friends.

He had a place where he belonged to now – for good.

And, for now, that was enough.

* * *

**Authors Note: **I absolutely _hated _how long I took to update this. Don't get me wrong, I didn't intent to take this long to update, but I tend to write when I have _inspiration,_ and I kept getting nothing for this story. I'd open up the document and leave it out for hours sometimes. But I'd only end up writing one or two paragraphs before giving up and turning in for the night.

But, finally, I got the inspiration to finish it! And I can honestly say that I will first finish a story (completely) before posting it because I've always had trouble ending them (out of attachment to it or otherwise, I'm not entirely sure...).

It was a riot to write this, though, and I hope you all enjoyed the fanfiction :D

Review, because this story is finally _complete._

_Scarlett._


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